


Orange Light (Painted by Morning Sun)

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Dark, Dark SBI, Everyone's morals are a bit to the left, Family Dynamics, Forced adoption, Gen, If joinking kids off the streets can be conisdered adoption, In a very platonic way, Kidnapping, Morally Ambiguous Character(s), No Romance, Possessive Behavior, Stockholm Syndrome, Worldbuilding, a bit too much of, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Tommy, newly deserted Hunter doesn't quite know how it all lead up to this; Exhausted and dragging along a stumbling and completely out of it, Tubbo towards what he hopes will give them some respite."Thirsty," He hears Tubbo mumble against his shoulder. It need not be said, Tommy knows.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 202
Kudos: 514
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really like RPF, although I'm aware that Dream SMP is technically toeing the line, so I'm very surprised that I somehow landed here. I'm a big fan of *any* platonic series (book or movie) that stay platonic without involving romance so I got hooked far too quickly in my opinion. 
> 
> This is very loosely inspired by "Ruby in the Moonlight" by MatleenaMaddie and SilverWing15. And by loosely inspired by, I mean only the SBI being vampires part. So I borrowed a part of their concept really. In fact, I'm blaming a large part of the creation of this on Silverwing15's series "This House Is A Fucking Nightmare" which is what sent me tumbling down the hill of morally ambiguous SBI from the very beginning. That being said, I've chosen to take my own spin on this so don't read their works and expect it to be too similar but definitely check it out.
> 
> I'll start off laying some ground rules for this fic for mine and any readers' sake. This work will not contain any romance at all. This is not meant to represent the CCs, which is why Tubbo is blonde like his Minecraft skin. It's difficult to draw the line between the characters and the content creators but I will try my best. 
> 
> That being said, every character here is questionable at best. We get some pretty screwy views on murder, kidnapping, and general mayhem that I do not actually believe in. This is just for fun but will be deleted if the CCs express discomfort towards fanfictions. There will be some blood and violence and mild gore but that is mostly done to standby Original Characters. Nothing too bad will happen description-wise to the SMP characters. The M-rating might be a bit strong but I believe in better safe than sorry! :) 
> 
> ALSO! Do NOT shove this into the content creators' faces, avoid sharing this in any way that would result in them getting this, please. Based on what I've heard and researched, most are fine with there being fan works out there BUT do not want to see it which is completely fine and respectable. So please, respect the content creators, thank you!

"I'm thirsty," Tubbo mumbles into Tommy's collarbone as they stumble along the streets, Tommy snarling at anyone who dares to eye them just a little too long. 

"I know Tubs. But we can't stop here, just a little further." Tommy stresses as he pulls the slightly shorter teen along. 

"Thirsty," Tubbo repeats as he wets his lips, eyes slightly glazed, fingers digging into Tommy's right upper arm. 

Tommy swears. 

It's early, few are out and about at this time but soon the streets will be full of people, rushing around each other. They might be wandering down one of the less busy streets, but they can't afford to be out in the open too long. They can't afford to be out during direct daylight. 

"Soon there," Tommy chants mindlessly, as he finally sees the rusty sign lightly swinging in the wind. "Just a little further, don't give up on me bitch-boy." 

Tubbo continues to mumble something indistinguishable, face practically mushed against Tommy's shoulder, long straight strands of blond hair hanging like a curtain, hiding the pale face underneath.

They practically fall through the door into the dimly lit, funny-smelling reception. A sour man eyes them suspiciously, taking in Tommy's somewhat torn, muddy clothes and Tubbo's almost pristine-looking clothes. There are twigs in Tommy's hair and Tubbo, although still practically plastered against Tommy, is deathly pale. 

Tommy glares. Daring the man to say anything. 

It's silent for a moment, the man clearly weighing his options as he warily drags his cloudy eyes from one teen to the other. A hand short the middle finger taps against the dark wooden desk that is only adorned with a worn-looking leather book and a rusty, dusty bell that gleams dimly in the light. 

"Ya got the cash?" He asks after a moment, almost sneering. 

"You got a room?" Tommy challenges, scraping at the last of his energy reserves. 

"200 pounds a'night." 

Tommy opens his mouth in outrage, but a low, sad noise from Tubbo makes him reconsider. 

"Fine," he snaps as he slams down a roll of cash. 

The man eyes the rolled-up money critically, removing the rubber-band carefully to painstakingly count the amount. They stand in silence save for Tubbo's small whines that do nothing for Tommy's stress levels. 

"Three nights," the man eventually reluctantly allows as he turns around. He reaches out to remove one of the keys that dangle on the poorly made crooks, putting it on the table between them. Tommy snatches the key off the table, closing his fist around it as his thumbnail nervously traces the almost worn-out number 'four' messily painted on a small wooden badge. 

He begins to drag Tubbo closer to the staircase and swears. It's narrow, steep, and looks just about ready to collapse at any given moment. 

"That thing you're carrying better not disturb any of the other guests," the man speaks up just as Tommy manages to hoist them onto the first step. 

He stiffens as he turns to look at the man who continues to glare at them with barely hidden disdain. Tommy grits his teeth nods once and continues to half carry, half drag Tubbo's dead-weight up the stairs. 

When they finally make it into the room that more resembles a moldy cupboard than anything else, the first thing Tommy does is deposit Tubbo on the thinnest bed he has probably ever seen. It also happens to be the  _ only _ bed and Tommy grapples with the urge to go back down and swear up a storm. Like  _ hell _ , this shit-hole was worth 200 pounds a night. 

But he knows he can't. 

"Toms," Tubbo mumbles. He hasn't moved from the uncomfortable position he had flopped into as Tommy put him down. 

"Yeah, I know big man," Tommy says quietly as he carefully locks the door. Not that locking it matters, one good kick would bring it down like one of Sam Nook's house of cards. But it eases a part of Tommy's brain that has saved him many times throughout the years, and thus he complies. 

"I'm thirsty, so thirsty, I think I'm dying," Tubbo babbles as he swallows drily. Nuzzling into the thin blanket that had been thrown over the bed at some point. 

"I know, I know," Tommy repeats uselessly as he walks over to the window and closes the curtains as well as he can. "I'll fix it, just, just, wait a moment big man." 

Tubbo doesn't answer. 

Tommy exhales shakily as he drags his hand through his curls, wincing as twigs dig deeper into his scalp. 

"You want water Tubs?" He asks as he digs through his backpack, ice pooling in his gut. 

Tubbo is silent. 

Tommy swallows uneasily. He grabs a water bottle and two energy bars before standing up and nervously approaching the bed. He doesn't dare to throw himself into it, he very much doubts the swaying thing could take it. Instead, he carefully eases himself until he's sitting closest to the wall, back leaning against the headboard and Tubbo curled up against his leg. 

"You're thirsty?" He asks, even if he  _ knows _ . 

Tubbo stirred, moving until one eye peaks up towards him.

Tommy knows. He knows that they would never be the same ocean blue they were before. He knows but it still hurts as one red eye peers up at him from underneath blonde bangs. It hurts to see those red eyes in the face of someone he doesn't know if he can live without. 

He hurts, but he knows that for all Tommy hurt, Tubbo probably hurts twice as much. 

"Come on bitch-boy. You said you were thirsty," he mumbles as he uncovers his right wrist, rolling up his long-sleeved black shirt. He's nervous, but he doesn't mind, not really, not if it means he can keep Tubbo by his side. 

Tubbo looks torn. Torn between the hellish thirst Tommy has heard so much about and the heartbreak of having to feed of his friend to survive. They both know that the decision is beyond them both. But it still hurts. 

"I'm sorry." Tubbo rasps as he begins to sit up, swaying somewhat as he gently holds onto Tommy's wrist. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be a pussy," Tommy says with a shaky smile. Tubbo tries to return it, trembling and with barely contained tears building up in his eyes. He opens his mouth, showing off inhumanly sharp fangs, _ready to-_

Tommy angrily nibbles his way through his second energy bar. He's somewhat lightheaded, feels like shit, and might throw up if anyone shakes him too hard. They had opened the window to air out the smell of metal that still lingered somewhat. Despite being a bit away from the Mainstreet, the easily identifiable sound from a bustling crowd could be heard through the window. 

Tubbo was silent. He merely lay still, curled up against Tommy as he emptily gazed forward. 

Tommy forcibly swallowed the last bit of the energy bar before crumpling the paper into a ball and chucking it across the room. His stomach stirred uneasily at the sudden movement and he had to swallow back the bile. 

They sat in silence for a bit doing nothing but breathing, listening to the distant sound of a dog and squeals from excited children. 

"America," Tommy suddenly says, fingers tapping against his leg. He's exhausted but also filled to the brim with nervous energy. 

"Too much of a distance," Tubbo mumbles tiredly. 

"We can go by boat."

"How?" Tubbo looks up at him, eyes dimming slightly as Tommy flinches at the color. He turns away, hiding his face in the blanket. "We can't go by boat, we can't go by plane, and we can't walk across the ocean. So How?" 

"Fine," Tommy snaps, "Dubai." 

Tubbo snorts, turning slightly so he can look at Tommy again. Tommy meets his eyes, no flinching this time. 

"Tommy..." Tubbo mumbles, reaching out to grab onto the hand that isn't tapping up a storm on Tommy's left leg. "We might have to give up-"

"No." 

Tommy tears his hand away from Tubbo's, lightly slapping Tubbo over the head. 

"I'm not giving up, you're not giving up. We can do this." 

"Tommy I don't want you to live a life on the run," Tubbo snaps angrily, sitting up. They can't have this discussion with one of them laying down,  _ with him _ laying down. 

Tommy doesn't quite meet his eyes, glaring into the distance. "A bit late for that Tubs." 

Tubbo looks at him closely. "What? What does that mean?"

Tommy still isn't looking at him. 

"Tommy."

"I deserted."

Tubbo stills. What? Tommy? Deserted? No way, impossible, the sun rises in the east, Tubbo likes his bees and Tommy is a Hunter. 

"No way... Surely not..." He stutters. Tubbo is tired. He's so tired, he can't. 

"They wouldn't let me look for you," Tommy whispers, he's finally looking at Tubbo. Tubbo doesn't think he's ever seen him so brittle, so frail. "I can't, not without you. The Org is nothing but a snakepit, I can't live like that without you." He whispers, baring a weakness he'd never admit to just a couple of months ago. 

Tubbo swallows, wetting his lips nervously as he leans back until he's propped against the headboard, besides Tommy. 

"Please don't go," Tommy whispers into the quiet air around them. 

Tubbo smiles wetly, he can feel tears slowly trailing down his cheeks as his nose gets stuffy. In a couple of months, weeks maybe, he wouldn't even be able to cry. 

"It's not really up to me, big man," he whispers as he rests his head against Tommy's shoulder. 

They fall asleep like that. 

* * *

Waking up is a horrible experience. His mouth is dry, his head pounding, and every bruise is flaring as Tommy slightly stretches. Every inch of his poor body is stiff and unyielding, sleeping while sitting up had done it no favors. He blinks blearily, groaning as he notes that the weak morning light was gone, instead, he can glimpse heavy dark clouds through the thin curtains. They must've slept to midday at the very least. 

"Tubbo?" He rasps as he wets his lips, reaching over to the water bottle that was stuck between his left leg and the wall. He grimaces as he unscrews the cap, downing half the bottle in one go.

Tubbo mumbles something indistinguishable. He lifts his head slightly, peering at Tommy through half-lidded eyes before letting his head fall back on Tommy's shoulder. 

Something twists in Tommy's lower stomach. He has never seen Tubbo this tired before, the slightly shorter teen was seemingly able to run on nothing but tea and sugar. He would rather die than say it out loud but he's worried. He's out of his depth and Tubbo probably knows less than he does. 

"Did the asshole tell you anything?" He asks. 

He can feel Tubbo stiffen slightly, immediately becoming alert at the barest mention of his Sire. 

"No," he admitted bitterly. "I've been pretty out of it for the last couple of days, even if he did say something I can't remember." 

"Fucking hell," Tommy swears as he lets his head fall back against the wooden wall behind him. "I don't know much," he warns the other warily, "other than some very basic manners and social cues. Blood-suckers aren't known for being the sharing kind. Most information we have is more observations than fact." 

"I'm surprised you know anything other than killing them," Tubbo confesses even as he refuses to make eye-contact. 

"Fuck if I know why, the Organisation doesn't seem to know whether it wants to work with or against them. We're taught how to decapitate and how to properly burn a body, but sometimes they sprinkle in some lessons on manners, like how to properly greet them or how to tell older bastards apart from younger bastards." 

Tubbo warily holds onto Tommy's hand. 

Tommy quietens. 

"Have you..." He trails off, swallowing nervously, "Have you felt... Thirsty?" 

"No," Tubbo says with an unsure glance. "I... Other than earlier. It stopped when you..." He grimaces, his lower lip wobbling as he shakily inhales. "It felt weird, it didn't taste the same as what he gave me." 

Tommy frowns. 

"You sure? Did it ever taste differently before?"

Tubbo shakes his head silently. 

"What, you think- you think they were giving you some prescription shit or?" 

"..." 

"Fuck Tubbo! What does that mean?!" 

"I don't know!" Tubbo snaps with a snarl as he brings his legs closer to his chest. "I don't know, I don't- even know what I'm doing here, I don't know why you would- you... Argh!" He hides his face in his knees even as he keeps holding onto Tommy's hand. "Why would you do such a stupid thing?" 

Tommy feels the familiar embers of fury light up in his chest. This he knows how to deal with, this is familiar. 

"Fuck you bitch-boy! You're my friend, even if you're an asshole! I wasn't gonna let you rot amongst the blood-suckers!" 

"Don't you get it? I'm one of them now, Tommy, you won't just be able to keep dragging me around!" Tubbo almost shouts. He's always been slow to anger but he's never lacked the ferocity. 

"You want to go back?!" 

"I don't  _ want _ to! But what other options do I have?" Tubbo shrieks with heartbreak. They pause as someone angrily pounds on the thin wall beside them. They look at each other. 

"I'm not letting you go back big man," Tommy says quietly. Tiredly. "I can't. You won't have to hurt anyone, I promise." 

"But I will. Don't you see? I'll hurt you, you buffoon." Tubbo says with teary eyes. "Don't try and deny it, you can't keep up. We don't know how much I need, how long I can go between...  _ Feedings _ . We don't know anything, we're so out of our depth that we might as well cut our losses now before I do something I'll regret forever." 

"You don't think they're going to force you to do something you'll regret sooner or later? I can keep up, I promise! If I survived that shit-hole I'll survive being your walking blood bank too!" 

"But I don't  _ want _ you to survive, I want you to  _ live _ ! You're free of the Organisation now, you can go wherever you want!" 

"And I don't  _ want _ to abandon you! I'll forever have to look over my shoulder because Prime knows those fuck-heads don't know when to quit anyway! Might as well do it together with my friend! You bitch!" 

Tubbo opens his mouth to argue but another series of much angrier slams into the wall beside the bed stops him. They eye the wall warily, both tense as springs. No series of slams continue, no one tries to force open the door to yell at them.

They cautiously relax. 

"I know some... people," Tommy says after some silence. He doesn't meet Tubbo's eyes, merely tightens his grip around the other's hand. "I'll ask them, see what they're willing to share." 

Tubbo looks at him with doubt. 

"Tommy... You're not talking about..." 

"What other options do I have?" He snarks back, mimicking Tubbo. 

"That's so incredibly foolish. You're serving them your head on a silver platter! Don't you remember what happened the last time?" 

Tommy remains silent for a second too long. He begins to distractedly fiddle with his fingers and won't meet Tubbo's searching gaze. 

Tubbo knows this behavior. Knows what it means when Tommy acts like this. He watches with dread as Tommy shakily inhales before turning towards him. A slightly guilty but also stubborn look on his face as his light blue eyes clash with Tubbo's now red eyes. 

"That wasn't the last time I saw them, Tubs." 


	2. Chapter 2

Tommy swears furiously, combining every swear-word he can think of into a long chain of profanity. More than a couple of mothers glare at him as they hurridly attempt to shield their children from hearing the full extent of Tommy's impressive vocabulary. 

Tommy can't bring himself to care. Not when it's pissing down. Not when the only thing shielding him from the rain is the thin jacket he wore for its less restricting quality. Not when he had to leave Tubbo behind at that shitty inn with that shitty owner. 

He stills feels somewhat nauseous, stuck between being too full and ravenous. Energy bars won't cut it in the long run, he needs warm actual food, and not the hurridly packed müslibars that Tubbo had insisted that they'd buy at some point, arguing that they were cheap and a perfect snack. He remembers how they had managed to live off them for four days before giving in and investing the rest of their spendable savings in instant noodles. 

The rest of the bars had laid undisturbed in a cupboard until Tommy had desperately torn open the door and thrown the remaining bars into his backpack. Dusting around in a cupboard for a year had done them no favors, but Tommy hadn't been able to bring himself to complain, not when Tubbo might never be able to eat one of those disgusting things ever again. 

Tommy isn't scared. He's a big strong man who has been on his own for as long as he could remember. But he's weary, more than aware of the many ways his poorly put-together operation could go pear-shaped. 

He can't believe that one of the first things he does the moment he's free from the Hunter Organisations claws, is run back to the very same place he was convinced would be his end so many times. All he can do is pray that he'd run across one of the more amiable members of the nightmarish trio. Tommy's not very hopeful though, his luck has a tendency to swing between the two extremes, and saving Tubbo was already an unbelievable feat in itself. He wouldn't be surprised if this was the moment the universe decided things had been going his way for a bit too long. 

He hesitates just as he's about to round the corner. He barely notices that the rain has let up at some point, going from a complete downpour to a very light, almost unnoticeable drizzle. 

Tommy is a good distance away from the main street with its bright lights and cozy shops. Far away from the inn where he had left Tubbo. Even further away from the blasted mansion that he had rescued Tubbo from. 

Tommy is  _ very _ close to the alley he had lost so many teammates in. 

He shakily exhales as he ventures into the alley, tense, and all too aware of the missing sword he usually had strapped to his belt whenever he was forced back into this accursed place. 

No matter how many times he sees it, no matter how many nights in a row he visits. He can't believe that the only signs left behind from his struggles are the thin but deep slashes into the concrete walls lining the alley, the left behind dents from silver-bullets. 

Every time he returns he expects to see the countless fallen bodies of his temporary comrades. Expects to see bloody puddles and gore distributed all over the floor and walls like some kind of fucked up Christmas decoration. 

The buildings stand just as empty as they've always had. No one ventures through this alley, there's no point to it. Not when the Mainstreet is so much safer and well-lit. Not even the dregs of the city dare loiter anywhere near this place.

Tommy never truly understood why the alley was built. What purpose had it served? It was so completely off from everything else, isolated and yet smack in the middle of the shittier part of the city. 

He had his theories but not even he would risk it to see whether he's right or not. 

"There you are." a crisp voice says.

Tommy stiffens before harshly turning on the spot, teeth bared as he glares into the corner he knows the voice originated from. 

He's unsurprised to see a long man leaning against the wall, the one visible eye observing him calmly as a fall of wild brown curls cover the left eye. The man is wearing a long-sleeved black turtle neck with the sleeves rolled up around the elbows. A dark brown jacket is slung over the man's shoulders. The ironed trousers are of similar color, ending just above the ankles. He's wearing black shiny dress shoes. Tommy also notes that he is also completely dry, the dickhead. 

Logically, the man shouldn't be a threat. He isn't dressed like one. A human would find it immensely difficult to fight in a get-up that looks more at home amongst fancy dresses and wine-glasses filled to the brim with dark red liquid. 

Tommy knows better. Knows that logic and common sense have no home in this alley, with this man. 

"Wilbur." he greets as his glare never lets up. 

Wilbur grins, showing off pearly white, razor-sharp teeth. The one visible red eye gleaming in the dim light. 

"You're a bit early." He says, tilting his head slightly to the side as he eyes Tommy up and down. "And ill-equipped, looking like a drowned rat," he motions purposefully with a nod at the distinct lack of armor and weapons. 

Tommy grimaces. "My eyes are up here fucker," he snarls, red eyes immediately making eye contact with him. 

"You weren't here yesterday," Wilbur says as he shifts, uncrossing his legs. "Techno was disappointed." 

"Technoblade was here?" Tommy whispers as horror pools in his gut. 

"Yup. Why weren't you?" 

"Fuck you, that's why." Wilbur merely laughs mockingly. Looking down on him. Tommy brutally stomps on the urge to throw himself at the being, he knows better now, knows better than to carelessly throw himself at a vampire. 

He's unsure whether to praise or curse his luck. He'd much prefer it if Philza was the one to greet him, but he knows the older vampire is the  _ least _ likely to make a pit stop. Wilbur or Technoblade tend to be the ones he runs into on an almost nightly basis. 

Technoblade usually tosses him around a bit, slaughters some of his comrades, and leaves him alone and bruised in the alley surrounded by corpses and dying men. Usually with some mocking and teasing as he goes, and rarely tips on how to improve his swordsmanship. 

Wilbur on the other hand is both better and worse. Wilbur doesn't always outright kill his assigned teammates, he usually sends them on their way with his annoying brainwashing ability or whatever it is. That's a relatively new occurrence though, in the beginning, he took great pleasure in playing with the other Hunters. Turning it into a game as he lures them away from Tommy, picking them off one by one before returning to mock him. 

The problem with Wilbur is that he's a master at manipulation, a master at twisting and turning his words until his victims can't tell up from down. If anyone could convince the masses that the sky is in fact green and clouds a figment of the imagination, it'd be Wilbur. 

"So what did you do during your night off?" Wilbur asks with a gleam in his eyes. "Slept in like the child you are?" 

"Shut up old man." Tommy grimaces, that was far from one of his better comebacks. Judging by the almost indulgent smile Wilbur is wearing, the blood-sucker is more than aware of that as well. He can't help it though, this week has been about as shitty as it could possibly get and things are not looking up. 

"You've been off this week. Are you sleeping alright? Eating enough?" Tommy doesn't even deign to answer the vampire's questions. He's not sure exactly when it started, but for some reason, Wilbur, in particular, had taken an interest in his life outside the death alley. He'd chalk it up to the other being a condescending prick but honestly who the hell knows what the fuck goes through that asshole's brain. 

"I want to ask you something," he says with as much bravado as he can muster. His heart picking up a slightly faster pace as he sees something flash in Wilbur's eyes before it's gone. 

"Oh?" He grins invitingly. "What do you want child? 

"Asking for a friend," Tommy adds before he can stop himself, internally wincing as the other's grin grows wider. 

"Of course." 

"How do you fuckers turn a human?"

Wilbur stills. Tommy's heart might as well stop as he starts to reconsider whether this was actually a good idea or not. 

"Why do you want to know?" Wilbur asks with a false light voice. He looks tense like he's prepared to pounce at any second. Tommy starts to regret even  _ entertaining _ this stupid idea, what the fuck was he thinking? 

"No reason," he says quickly. "Look this has been fun and all, but you know, I meet some ladies earlier and-" 

"Tommy." 

Tommy shuts up. His heart's racing and he can't help the quick glance behind him despite knowing that Wilbur could easily take him as he is. He can't even  _ pretend _ it'd be a fair match without his sword and his loaded gun with the silver-lined bullets. 

He looks back and almost stops breathing as Wilbur now stands directly in front of him, having moved faster than he could possibly see. 

Wilbur is tall, much taller than Tommy, and Tommy can't stop his heart from racing in his chest like a frightened squirrel. The vampire leans closer, never breaking eye-contact as his nose twitches once- twice delicately. 

"What the fuck? Personal space, man, fuck off!" Tommy snaps as he takes a step back. Wilbur doesn't follow, he just looks at Tommy with a blank expression and Tommy struggles to keep his angry front. If he falters now Wilbur would  _ know _ something was up, something he probably wouldn't be very happy with. Tommy's knowledge of the inner-workings of the vampire part of society is limited at best, but he does know that a Changeling is not something vampires are very keen on existing outside of their closely-knit community. 

If he falters now, Tubbo would be in more danger than he already is. 

Wilbur's painfully neutral face morphs into a smile. Tommy doesn't trust that smile one bit, it isn't friendly, it isn't meant to calm him. It's a threat and warning for danger to come. 

"Interesting friend you have there," he says lightly, almost giving Tommy a heart attack before he remembers what he had stupidly blurted out. "Care to share? Maybe I know them?" 

"Doubt it." 

"Aw, don't be like that Toms," Wilbur fucking coos. "You can't just bring up something interesting and then not tell me man, that's just mean." 

"Yeah well, maybe I don't feel like being nice, dickhead." 

Wilbur only laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he slinks into a relaxed pose. Tommy doesn't believe that for a second. 

"It's not like you to take an interest in our lifestyle, what brought this on?" 

"I already told you, asking for a friend." 

Wilbur regards him, head slightly tilted to the side like a bird. He's looking at him like he is a particularly fascinating specimen stuck under a magnifying glass. 

"Hypothetically," he begins. "A human goes through a process that may or may not differ depending on the human and vampire."

Tommy blinks, waiting for Wilbur to continue. He doesn't, he stands perfectly still as he stares at Tommy, unbothered by the silence. 

"What the fuck. That tells me nothing." 

Wilbur quirks a smile. "Of course it does. Now tell me why you want to know." 

Tommy glares but he knows better than refusing to answer. 

"Hypothetically," he mocks with a higher-pitched voice. "A situation where knowledge about the process of turning may or may not have appeared." 

The smile slips off Wilbur's features. 

"Is this connected to the Hunter Organisation?" He asks cooly. 

Tommy merely watches him warily.

The temperature abruptly drops and Tommy barely resits the urge to shiver, he is wet and miserable enough as it is. 

" _ Tommy _ ." 

"It's not." He responds sullenly. Dangit. Talking to Wilbur is like pulling teeth. He almost always ends up revealing more than he wants while Wilbur struts away knowing more than Tommy is comfortable with. But he's desperate and as sad as it is, Wilbur and the others might be the only choice he has if he wants to protect Tubbo. 

Wilbur doesn't look comforted, instead, he almost looks more agitated.

"How on earth would you end up in a situation where you need knowledge about the turning process?" 

"I never said I did," Tommy says carefully. "I'm asking for a friend." Technically not a lie. Those fuckers have a tendency to know if you're lying or not, it's been theorized that it's because they can hear your heartbeat, but honestly, Tommy doubts it. He's been able to hide from them even when he's scared, it's more likely that they just have inbuilt lie-detectors. Oh shit, does that mean Tubbo would be able to tell when he lies? 

Wilbur doesn't answer, he merely looks at Tommy with a disturbingly blank expression. Tommy discretely puts his hands in his pockets, his right hand holding on to the pocket knife he had hurriedly pocketed when he left home. He knows the blade would do jack-shit against Wilbur, hell, he doesn't even think it could  _ puncture _ the vampire's skin even if he let him get close enough to try. But it makes him feel better so he continues to clutch on to the knife. 

"Wanna know what I think?" Wilbur abruptly asks. Tommy opens his mouth, ready to say exactly how little he cares about what Wilbur  _ thinks _ but quickly closes it when he registers the tone. 

Wilbur isn't playing anymore. Tommy nervously wets his chapped lips but doesn't interrupt. A far too pleased look crosses the other's features and Tommy has to keep reminding himself of how Tubbo had  _ cried, _ how  _ tired _ he had looked in order not to blow up. 

_ "I think you should be a good lad and tell me what exactly you've been doing."  _

Tommy stiffens. He stops breathing completely. 

Wilbur has  _ never _ used that on him.  _ Never _ , not even in the beginning when he had half-heartedly tried to kill him! 

But telling Wilbur... That wouldn't be so bad, would it? Wilbur would help him, Wilbur would ensure that he and Tubbo would be protected, safe. 

"Stop." Tommy coughs out, still unable to control his breathing, unable to  _ think  _ clearly as Wilbur's poisonous coaxing slinks into his mind. There is little he can do if Wilbur presses the point. 

Wilbur shushes him and grabs ahold of his shoulders, suddenly very close. Tommy feels dizzy as he fights against the command, face-planting into Wilbur's chest as he focuses on trying to contain the  _ urge _ , the  _ need _ to tell Wilbur everything like a bursting dam. 

Fuck. He should've never gone here, should've taken Tubbo and left. He could've tried to find a less involved Coven or one of the strays, maybe he would've had more luck with them. 

Wilbur easily holds up his entire weight, ensuring that he doesn't just fall into a useless pile on the floor. One arm keeps him relatively upright while the other hand has found its way to Tommy's wet curls. 

Tommy is being petted like a  _ fucking _ _ dog _ . 

"Don't fight it," Wilbur urges gently.  _ "Just tell me what's up, tell me what's gotten you so skittish. I'm here, we'll help you." _

"Tubbo's been turned." The words force themselves out of him despite how desperately he tries to keep them down. 

Wilbur stills. The hand petting him stopping, hovering mid-motion. 

Tommy feels the mist clear. Without thinking, he pulls out the knife, blade flipped out and jams it as hard as he can into Wilbur's side. Wilbur doesn't even stumble but instead refocuses on Tommy. The knife clatters uselessly to the ground as Tommy turns around and runs. 

Logically, there's no way you can beat a vampire in speed. But Tommy has been forced to fight in this alley almost every day for  _ months _ . He knows it and the surrounding buildings about as well as the back of his hand. The problem is that Wilbur knows it just as well. 

He crashes into a building, jumping through a broken window, and stumbles through a door left ajar. Tommy slams the door close behind him with all the strength he can muster but knows better than to turn around as he hears the door get torn open and off its hinges. He makes a sharp turn, stumbling and crashing into the walls of the old moldy abandoned apartment as he goes. He is familiar with the layout, having been forced to run through and fight in this and the other buildings nearby. He makes it to the hallway, noticing that the front door is missing. Without looking back, knowing fully well that Wilbur is just behind him and could grab him at any second, he rushes through the doorway and jumps over the railings. 

The outlay of this and the other buildings framing the left side of the alley had always been weird in Tommy's opinion. You couldn't enter from the streets and the windows were weirdly low for an apartment complex that close to the street. The only way to enter the building was by walking through an incredibly thin side alley that laid further down the street, closer to the river that helped to divide the huge city into three parts. Upon entering the building, you'd notice a staircase that went up and down, the staircase going down leading to an underground system of basements and storage rooms. It was quite honestly an underground maze and Tommy refused to believe that this entire part of the city hadn't been designed to hide some shady fucking business before it was pretty much abandoned. 

Jumping over the railing meant a two or three-meter free-fall before he was surrounded by the cool and stale air of the basement. Not stopping to recover he kept running down the corridor, almost immediately taking a left as it split into three smaller sections. His sneakers made wet, echoing sounds as he desperately ran. 

He wouldn't be able to keep this up. It frankly surprised him that Wilbur hadn't just grabbed him yet, even though he knew he was making it difficult for the vampire by taking as many abrupt turns as he could. 

Tommy almost stumbles as he hears a ringtone far too close for comfort. He doesn't stop, even as he hears the ringtone further and further away, a sign that Wilbur stopped pursuing him. 

He doesn't stop until he's back at the main street, surrounded by a chattering mass of people and light. He's shaking and gasping as he heavily leans against a wall, trying desperately to get his breathing under control. He gets a couple of weird looks but can't bring himself to care. 

Fuck. Fuck.  _ Shit _ . 

He's screwed them. Tommy has singlehandedly managed to royally fuck them over. No way Wilbur would just go on about his day forgetting what Tommy just told him. 

A small part stings at the betrayal. He shouldn't feel betrayed, Wilbur is a  _ vampire _ . Someone who was almost always present during his nightmares. Someone who tried to kill him. Someone whose close friends had tried to kill him. Tommy shouldn't have expected  _ anything _ from him. 

He stays where he is even as his breathing gets under control. He needs to be smart about this. He can't just go straight back to the inn, to Tubbo. He has to be vigilant, on top of his game. 

Tommy sighs, dragging a hand through his sweaty hair as he begins his extended trek. 

He doesn't notice his observer. He doesn't notice the red eyes closely trailing his every move. The vampire is slightly hidden by a corner pressing his lips together in displeasure as he listens closely to what the man on the other side of the phone is telling him. 

The sun would set in three hours. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur! :D 
> 
> I was actually going to wait another day with posting this but I have zero self-control, so here we are. Also, I told you, lots and lots of exposition! Yes I know I have a problem but since this story kinda throws us right into the action I figured *some* information needs to be given at this point lmao. 
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment on your way out, it is always very appreciated and a huge boost to my day! :) <3


	3. Chapter 3

When Tommy finally stumbles into his and Tubbo's room, tired, cold, wet and so  _ utterly _ done with his life. He almost immediately turns around and goes straight back out at the sight of Tubbo. 

Saying that Tubbo looked unhappy would be the understatement of the century. Even if he tried, Tommy doesn't think he can remember a time Tubbo has looked more pissed off than he does now. 

Tubbo opens his mouth, eyes flashing.

Tommy holds up his hand. There's a tense moment of absolute silence. 

"Tubs, I know, I'm super sorry, but I really, really gotta get out of these clothes and take a shower before I scream."

The glare doesn't let up and Tommy quietly resigns himself to spending the rest of their discussion, or rather Tubbo's scolding, in complete misery. 

"The pressure is shit," Tubbo growls before dramatically turning away from Tommy. Now glaring at the dusty copy of  _ 'A Little Princess' _ that they had found underneath the bed before he had left. The book has seen better days, slightly torn and missing a couple of pages but it was  _ something _ that Tubbo could do when Tommy was gone. 

Tommy bolts into the bathroom before Tubbo can change his mind, grabbing a change of clothes on the way. He grimaces at how small the bathroom is. He sees one of the small handtowels he had packed hang on the built-in clothesline, the other towel neatly folded on top of the otherwise empty shelf by the sink. 

There is no soap but at this point, he'd do almost anything to get rid of the sweat and dirt. 

By the time he's done, Tubbo has given up on the book altogether and instead sits leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed. Tommy carefully approaches almost expecting Tubbo to just open his eyes and scream at him. But he doesn't. 

Tommy is yet again struck by how  _ tired _ Tubbo looks and feels his lower gut clench with guilt. He carefully sits down beside Tubbo, this time with Tubbo closest to the wall. 

"Things didn't work out?" Tubbo asks after a moment of silence. Tommy winces. 

"I mean, I wouldn't say it was completely... I mean it was kinda..."

"So it went to shit." 

"All he said was some bullshit about how  _ hypothetically _ the process may or may not differ depending on the human and vampire-"

"What?" Tubbo abruptly straightens, turning around to stare at Tommy.

"Yeah, I don't fucking know either."

"No, Tommy did he say exactly that?" There's something searching in Tubbo's gaze as he turns more towards Tommy. 

"Yeah? Pretty much? And then I tell him that  _ that _ tells me absolutely nothing and he just says, yeah it does."

"What? Of course it tells us something!" Tubbo exclaims as he wiggles until he's completely facing Tommy, legs crosslegged and back against the wall. 

Tommy only looks at him. 

"Tommy! The turning process has been a mystery as long as we've known that they can turn humans!" 

"Well, yeah, I know  _ that _ ."

"No one, not one single vampire, stray, and coven-leader alike have ever told us anything about it! All we've done is hypothesize and experiment but all of that has always been moot!" 

"So?" Tommy really doesn't understand what the hell Tubbo's on about. But whatever wavelength Wilbur seems to permanently vibe with must be the same Tubbo's currently on. 

" _ So _ we now know that the process  _ isn't _ the same! There must be conditions that must be met! This changes everything!" Tubbo is practically vibrating in excitement, he hasn't looked this alive since he managed to convince a couple of bees to regularly visit his flowers on their balcony. 

"Conditions! I mean I can only speculate but given the nature of vampirism, the conditions probably have something to do with blood and age!" Tubbo falters slightly. 

"Oh... That's not good." he finishes weekly as Tommy looks at him in horror. 

During the worst vampire craze in the late eighteen-hundreds, one of the most taboo experiments had been scientists attempting to recreate the turning process. To this day, governments all over the world squirmed with admitting to the horrors performed with the taxpayers' money. Even though it's an open secret that some governments and agencies  _ still _ experiment with little to no success. 

No one really knows why, but every vampire on earth seems to share the sentiment that the turning process must be kept secret at all costs. There had been attempts, of course, plenty of vampires had been taken alive to force out the secret from them. But no matter what was done to them, not one of them snitched. It was later theorized that they  _ couldn't _ snitch, some ingrained survival instinct that prevented the species means of reproduction to be shared. Like so many other aspects of vampirism, it was eventually simply accepted as a fact. 

That didn't mean that humanity's attempt to reenact the turning stopped. Instead, it almost became a race to see who could figure out the process and thus build their own personal army of the undead. Tommy had heard about how scientists had stolen Changelings, keeping a close eye on the process and trying to ensure the artificial process was as close to the natural one as possible. And yet, despite their many attempts, the Changeling always died. No matter what they fed it, no matter how often, how rarely. They experimented with the surroundings, attempted to store them together and apart, nothing saved the Changeling from one day simply staying dead. 

So they tried to create a Changeling themselves. They tried letting a vampire infuse the experiment with their venom, but nothing happened. They tried making the human drink the venom with no results, they even attempted to feed the human the vampire's blood and yet nothing. The human always either ended up dead or experienced no effect. 

While the experiments during their worst craze claimed thousands of lives a day, the time-frame itself was rather short-lived. Vampires all over did not take kindly to humanity's attempt to weaponize them and steal their Changelings and kin. It resulted in a full-blown war between the species that lasted for almost a hundred years. Even today, more than a hundred years since the war was officially ended, things were still tense between the two species as a result. 

"You should be fine," Tommy says with as much self-assuredness he can muster. "The Changelings that were taken were always taken before the one-week mark. Their eyes hadn't even... It's been longer for you, you're going to be fine." 

Tubbo didn't look particularly sure of that himself but he would be fine. He had to be fine. 

"The... What he fed me... It always tasted the same... Yours... It tasted different." 

"But it worked?" Tommy was staring, cataloging every twitch, every hint that might reveal whether Tubbo was lying or not. Tubbo hesitated and seemed to really think it over as he wetted his lips. 

"Yes," he says after a while, sounding sure. 

"Then we're fine," Tommy says, sighing in relief. They're fine, they are going to be just  _ fine _ . 

Tubbo relaxes against the wall, eyes sliding shut again as the tense air breaks into something more comfortable. 

"If it had really come to that," Tommy says quietly causing Tubbo to tiredly open his eyes and look at him. "If we really had to choose between you being... Well, maybe not alive but  _ here _ and dead." He shakily inhales before looking up, staring straight into Tubbo's eyes. "I would have brought you back." 

Tubbo's lower-lip tremble. "Really? Mr. Big Bad hater of vampires would give me back to the vampires?" 

"I don't want to do this without you big man. I don't know how." 

Tubbo lets out a wet laugh. 

"I feel like we should address your codependency issues, Big T." 

"Shut up,  _ you're _ the clingy bitch." 

"You  _ literally _ _ just said _ -"

* * *

"Oh shit," Tommy says just as the last bit of orange disappears from the sky. 

Tubbo warily looks up from his book. "What?"

"I forgot," Tommy says with horror, the half-eaten energy bar falling to the bed as he attempts to grapple with the fact that his memory is  _ the absolute worst _ . 

"What did you forget?" Tubbo asks, a bit more alert as he closes the book and straightens. 

"Things didn't end on a very happy note between me and my source."

Tubbo, predictably, explodes. "Tommy!" 

"I know, I know, fuck, I'm sorry I forgot! I got distracted by the news that  _ you might die _ because we know nothing!" 

"Tommy, what the fuck! What happened?! I thought you were on somewhat good terms considering that he told you something literally any scientist would kill to have confirmed!" 

Tommy grimaces. They had always been somewhat controversial to him. In the beginning, they were boogeymen that could and would kill him at any given moment. After a while, they became something else, something  _ more _ . Something complicated. He doesn't know anymore, the less he thinks about them and their weird relationship the better off he'll be, he figures. 

"Which one was it?" Tubbo asks, tense and scared, Tommy can tell. 

"Wilbur." 

"That's not... The worst, I assume."

"I wouldn't say that," Tommy disagrees tiredly. "Philza never really pries and Technoblade avoids social interactions that he can't end with blood and mayhem like the plague."

Tubbo eyes him weirdly. 

"What?"

"Should I be concerned?" He asks quietly, something flashing in his eyes. 

Tommy understands what he means, what he's scared of. Tubbo had been on friendly terms with his... Sire, long before he was taken. It's one of the reasons Tommy had been able to hunt down his whereabouts and rescue him. Tubbo had underestimated vampires and it cost him. 

"It's something you pick up on after a while," he says tensely. 

"'After a while'? How long have you've been meeting?" Tubbo asks, real fear noticeable in his voice now. Tommy hesitates. 

"Tommy don't you fucking dare lie to me, not about this, not now."

"It hasn't really been because I  _ want _ to meet them," He says stiffly, trying to hinder the inevitable. 

"What?" 

"It's a mission," Tommy tells him after a second of silence. "I don't know what the fuck is wrong with the mission assigners but I've been given nothing but the same mission for months now, and they  _ always _ end in a confrontation with them." 

Tubbo looks faint. 

"I told you about the first few times, but you looked so worried, so I stopped saying anything-" "You  _ idiot _ !" "Fuck man, I didn't want to worry you!" 

Tubbo doesn't look faint anymore. He looks tired. Tommy wishes he'd just yell at him, get it out of his systems instead of looking like's he's aging 30 years by the second. After sitting silently in the tense air, Tubbo finally waves as if to say 'go ahead'. Tommy complies, they need to be on the same team, especially now. 

"They changed the more I meet them, I picked up on their behaviors, I guess, and they kinda picked up on mine. I wouldn't say that we're friends, but we were... Something. I wouldn't say that I trust them though! I'm definitely aware that they can change their minds at any time and try to kill me!" He hurries to clarify at the stricken look Tubbo gives him. 

"But yeah. After I asked Wilbur about the process, he wanted to know why I was asking-"

"What did you say?" Tubbo asks breathlessly. "Tommy, what the fuck did you say?"

"I said that I was asking for a friend," Tommy admits with a wince. Tubbo only puts his head in his hands, looking like he'd rather be anywhere except here. 

"He didn't believe me... I think." 

"No fucking shit he didn't believe you! You wouldn't be able to pass that lie through a  _ toddler _ !" 

"He used his ability," he confesses with shame. Tubbo pales. 

"He has an ability?" He whispers in horror.

"Some kind of brainwashing ability. I don't really know. It's not really something he's willing to share... He has never used it on me, everyone else yes but never me." 

"Tommy..."

"I know. I shouldn't take anything for granted but I did. It was stupid of me I'm sorry." 

They sit in silence. Tommy nervously fiddling with his fingers as Tubbo stares off into space blankly, resting his head on his hands. 

"We need to figure out what to do," Tommy finally breaks the silence. "We have two more days in this shit-hole, might as well get our money worth but after that, we'll need something else." 

Tubbo tiredly rubs his face, eyes slightly droopy. 

"We can't leave Great Britain, but we  _ can _ move. We don't have to stay in this city."

"Where would we go?" Tubbo asks, already sounding somewhat listless. 

"Anywhere, big man. Anywhere you want. We could go to Scotland and farm, build a bee-farm." 

Tubbo smiles but doesn't look convinced. That's okay, Tommy would show him. 

"Okay, Big T." 

Tommy smiles back. 

"I'm thinking," he begins carefully. Tubbo huffs. 

"Now I'm worried."

"Screw you! My ideas are great!"

"Your ideas had you  _ running _ _ away _ from a  _ vampire.  _ Great my ass."

"Not before stabbing him with me knife." 

"Not before doing  _ what _ ? Tommy!" 

"It's fine, he deserved it anyway."

"Somehow, I feel more and more disturbed the more you insist that we're  _ fine _ ." 

"Hush. So  _ anyway _ , I was thinking about maybe asking around, see if there's a market for one of those Blockers."

Tubbo quietened. 

"There's a market for them?"

"Of course there is," Tommy says with false self-assuredness. "As long as you know who to ask."

"And you do?" Tommy looked at Tubbo in affront. "Of course I do! You don't really live long in this sort of business without at least three or four back-up sources," he says with a hint of sobriety. 

Tubbo looks worried but decides to drop it. There is no point in wallowing in what-ifs and what could have been. They both were very aware of that, both having known people that  _ did _ and who always ended up face down in an infinitely filling glass of anything that could make them forget. Maybe that's why they had reached out to each other, both seeing something familiar in a sea of depressiveness that threatened to swallow you at the first sign of weakness. They were both fighters. Even if Tubbo's fire had been dampened by the unexpected betrayal. It was okay though, Tommy would ensure to fan that spark back into the fire it used to be. 

"We're getting off-track," Tubbo cuts in. "Why do we need Blockers?" 

"Well, I don't know about you big man but I'd rather not  _ walk _ all the way to Scotland from here. Blockers and some contact lenses should work just fine long enough for us to find a train." Tubbo looks hesitant. 

"Tommy, I don't know. I haven't really been around people, I don't know how I'll react." 

"It's okay," Tommy promises. "I'll feed you just before we leave, and I'm a certified Hunter, I promise I can keep you in check if worst comes to worst." Tubbo still looks uncertain but he knows just as well as Tommy that this won't work in the long run. They have to find somewhere to settle, far away from anything that could hurt them. Far away from anything that could make them  _ hurt _ others. 

"Okay," Tubbo whispers, reaching out to grip Tommy's hand. "Okay."

Tommy lets Tubbo cry. He sits there in silence, holding onto Tubbo's hand as the other chokes out everything that had been building up. 

They would be fine. 

* * *

Tommy hated that he had to leave Tubbo alone in that inn  _ again _ but they both knew it was for the best. It honestly hadn't even occurred to him that Tubbo might struggle with too many people at once for all the wrong reasons. Every reminder that Tubbo had been forcefully changed to a shadow of himself hurt but also stoked his ire. He knew better than to try and enact revenge, he couldn't afford to die, not now when Tubbo needed him, but Prime did he want to stab the asshole with the business end of his sword. 

He winced. Until just now, he'd almost managed to forget that all his weapons and armor had been abandoned at the Organisation headquarters. He hadn't been able to swipe them before he had to leave and attempting to break in now would be suicide. 

Busy mourning the loss of his beloved, Tommy didn't notice the sleek shadow approaching his booth, not until the person slides into the seat right in front of him. 

Tommy sharply looks up but relaxes as he recognizes the teen in front of him. 

"Purpled," he greets neutrally, the man nodding in return. 

Tommy immediately fishes up three rolls of bills, putting them on the table between them. Purpled eyes the money but doesn't attempt to reach for it. He knows taking the money would mean accepting the deal and Purpled is far too good at what he does to jump without looking. 

"I'm looking for something," Tommy informs him stiffly as Purpled looks back up at him again. 

"To steal or buy?"

"Buy," He might have to live off scraps when they finally make it to Scotland but it would be worth it. Rather payout now and ensure a relatively safe journey than regret it later. 

"Okay," Purpled says without judgment. "What are you looking for?" 

"Blockers."

Purpled stills. Tommy tries not to let it show how much it bothers him as he straightens in response.

"There's been plenty of interesting rumors lately," Purpled informs him, sounding to the world like he's bringing up something completely unrelated. Tommy knows better and reluctantly puts another roll of money on the table. 

"One of the more powerful Covens have had their Changeling stolen. The  _ Mad Goat's _ Changeling to be specific. Rumors say that he is less than pleased with it." 

Tommy doesn't raise to bait, he merely watches Purpled carefully. 

Purpled sighs, getting the message. 

"I don't particularly like you but you tend to pay well. Keep in mind that I'm only saying this for future business sake, be careful. You've ticked off a lot of powerful people in dangerous places." 

"Blockers." 

"The Dark Auction usually offers a couple." 

"When is the next auction?" Purpled huffs. 

"You're in luck. It is scheduled to take place two days from now at the Biginnit Hotel. There's a 97 percent chance that the stray Sam will be the host." 

Tommy thinks about it carefully. He doesn't know Sam the vampire but based on what he's heard he seem to be relatively alright as far as vampires go. Choosing not to involve himself with any of the bigger Covens that infest the city he instead focuses on acting as a businessman, investing in hotels and restaurants. 

He's been at the Dark Auction once in his life and dreads returning. It's an interesting play between the aristocratic humans and prideful vampires, mingling under the guise of it being on neutral grounds. The Dark Auction offers a variety of goods of dubious origin, vampire and human alike, stolen or rightfully sold. Only available to a very selected group of people and only takes place once a month at midnight sharp. Despite the Organisations's best attempts at shutting the operation down it continued, growing more and more sought-after until even highly established members of the Organisation themselves were participating. Nowadays it functioned both as an auction and an opportunity for the human world and vampire world to get a feel for the other. It was, in other words, a political mess that Tommy desperately wanted to avoid. 

But on the other hand. The auction was completely neutral, any attempts to start a fight or mess with the proceedings lead to a lifetime ban and pissing off a lot of people on  _ every _ side of society, Sam Nook had told him once. Fucking around was the equivalent of committing social suicide, you might as well be dead in the eyes of the 'higher' and more affluent part of society. High stakes for any Organisation and Coven members in other words while completely irrelevant for underdogs like him and Tubbo. 

"Can you guarantee that Blockers will be for sale?" 

"It will be the only place you have the slightest chance at finding them at such short notice." 

Purpled is right. Tommy wants to bang his head against the table. He isn't good with numbers, he would have to ask Tubbo to do the math for him but they should manage. He had been more or less aware that things like this could happen at any moment and had taken appropriate measures to ensure that they would have a sufficient financial buffer if things went south. He's incredibly grateful for forcing himself and Tubbo to turn almost all their savings into cash, hidden away on a good spot Tommy knew for sure would be safe. 

That being said, it hadn't been easy. They had lived off instant noodles and those disgusting energy bars. Barely spending any of their paychecks on anything else other than food and rent. And now all of it would go down the drain in a couple of huge spendings. 

He internally swore as he abruptly stood up. 

"Thanks," he grumbles as he begins to shuffle out of the booth, refusing to even glance at the money pile he left behind at the table. 

"Tommy," Purpled said causing Tommy to pause. 

"I don't know what the fuck you're doing, and frankly, I don't want to know, but-"

"Dude, I can't give you more-" Tommy interrupted but quietened as Purpled held up a hand. 

"I know, I'm giving you this for free, think of it as a bonus if you wish."

"Okay?" Purpled looks almost grim and a shiver works its way up Tommy's spine. Through all the years he's known Purpled, Tommy doesn't think he's ever seen Purpled this wary before. He feels dread gather in his lower stomach as the buzzing of the other pub inhabitants becomes a low murmur. 

"It's not only the Mad Goat that is on the move. The other big Coven, the Angel of Death's Coven has been stirring as of late, it's affecting everyone. Some theorize that they were the ones to steal the Changeling-" Tommy's blood goes cold. "But anyone who has a deeper insight into that world knows that's not the case. There would already be a full-scale war if they did."

"Why are you telling me this?" Tommy whispers, heart beating in his chest as he ignores the need to bolt. Purpled has the knowing look as he observes him like he can read Tommy like an open book, see all his deeds, and judges them. 

"A human teen accompanied by a Changeling buying blockers from the Dark Auction? You might as well just return it."

Tommy snarls. 

"Fuck you," he snaps. "I've been doing shit like this for far too long, I'll be in and out before they even know I'm there, and then I'll be gone."  _ They would be gone  _ a small part of him whispers. 

"Whatever," Purpled responds calmly as he gathers the money, storing it away in the brown bag slung over his shoulder. "I figured you'd want to know, give you a small edge to grasp onto." He grins but his eyes are cold and collected. "If you do make it I'll even give you a discount next time."

Tommy turns on his heel and exits the pub, slamming the door closed behind him as some of the hungover guests hiss at the loud noise. 

He wants to scream. Wants to be curled up on his and Tubbo's couch with Tubbo and watch one of those stupid musicals Tubbo had gotten him into on their shitty laptop that should've been thrown away a decade ago. 

But he can't. So instead he wanders off, goes back to the inn, goes back to Tubbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The length of this chapter... This is probabaly the longest you'll ever get at the same time so enjoy it, lmao. I had to choose between making this 2.5k and the next 4.5k or this 4k and the next 3k, but this made more sense content wise and makes the changes in chapter length less jarring hopefully lol. 
> 
> I'm aware that *alot* happens in this chapter, hopefully it doesn't become too messy but yay, Purpled makes a cameo! :D 
> 
> And as always, lots and lots of exposition. Hopefully you don't get too tired of it! But I hope you guys enjoy the spinn I took on vampire society even if it becomes a bit messy! ^^' 
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out if you have time! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Telling Tubbo about the apparently simmering civil unrest in the vampire part of society was not a fun experience. 

Tubbo looks scared, paling rapidly as Tommy forces himself to recount what he had learned. Tubbo has never really dabbled into that part of society, mostly because he has had no reason to, but he's somewhat knowledgeable about the underlying tension between the well-established Covens if only because of Tommy. He's aware enough to recognize what kind of shit storm would go down if the bigger Covens started getting too irritated with each other. And although Tommy takes care not to mention the finer details of what Purpled had told him, Tubbo is smart enough to make an educated guess  _ why _ they'd start to get pissy now of all times despite things being seemingly fine on the surface. 

"The Dark Auction will probably have what we need, and it's neutral grounds, no one would fuck with us," Tommy stresses, putting the bag filled with rolled bills on the bed between them. 

"The only problem is that almost everyone we don't want to meet along with their mother will be there.  _ He _ might be there. And we will probably have to exhaust all of our funds to get in and buy what we need. Oh, I almost forgot, sneaking out undetected might be an issue as well."

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all," Tubbo mumbles as he thumbs through the scattered rolls of money, taking care in ensuring that none of their hard-earned money found its way to the dusty floor. 

"We don't really have much of a choice now, do we big man?" Tommy snaps slightly as he distractedly begins jolting down with a ball-point pen what they would need on one of ' _ A Little Princess _ 's blank pages. 

It's not a long list, technically only three items and yet the estimated cost makes Tommy's stomach churn in discomfort. 

Colored contact lenses for Tubbo and really fucking expensive suits. 

Tommy winces as he thinks back to the one time he went to the auction, and the long boring lecture he'd been given on what to wear and what not to wear. What kind of psychopath takes the time to break down someone else's attire to figure out if it was expensive enough? Filthy rich people apparently. 

Tommy had in a fit of desperation, after taking a hard hit to the head, asked Wilbur for assistance in the middle of their fight and had almost immediately regretted it. The being had lit up like it was Christmas  _ and _ his birthday at the same time and had gleefully informed him of any conceivable way people would be able to tell whether his attire was cheap or not. He had started talking numbers that made Tommy's head spin in an attempt to grasp the absurd amount of money people would lay on clothes. And  _ still _ , he dodged Tommy's sword swings, dancing out of the way, chattering without even so much as a cut to show. The fucker. 

A package had shown up the day after while he was home alone on mandatory bed rest. Without really thinking he had opened it, figuring it was somehow related to the Organisation since it was addressed to him and had belatedly realized with horror that while it was addressed to him, he couldn't be more wrong about the sender. 

Neatly folded inside the package was a suit-set minus the jacket, instead, there was a dark red colored west with a rolled-up bright red tie. Red, his favorite color. A small white piece of paper, closely resembling a business card, laid on top of the clothes.  _ 'I think these would suit you! ;)' _ had been written in a neat scrawl and Tommy had to fight the urge to chuck the package out from the balcony. 

He never put them on, never really glanced at them ever since that first time. But he hadn't dared to throw them out. Instead, he hid the package in one of his many small storages spread all over the city before Tubbo could find out. Tommy didn't even want to think about what Tubbo would do if he found out that the same vampire that landed him with a concussion severe enough that the Organisation themselves, the known slave-drivers, had him on bed rest  _ also _ sent him stupidly expensive clothes to their fucking home. 

Tommy stopped. The  _ suit,  _ he still had it! In the end, he had been no reason to wear it as the Organisation had lent out standard suits that worked well enough. That suit had been long lost in a fire but the untouched one was still carefully stored away. Tommy internally shuddered as he weighed his options. On one hand, there was an outfit that at the very least would fit Tubbo and fulfill the dress-code out there, free for the taking. On the other hand, telling Tubbo that their move a couple of months ago wasn't actually because of the Organisation but rather because he found out in the worst way possible that the vampires knew where they lived. 

Tommy eyed their pile of cash on the bed with sorrow. 

"We might not have to buy two new sets," he mumbles as he carefully puts the money back into the plastic bag. 

Tubbo looks up at him from where he had unrolled one of the rolls to count the money. His eyes are narrowed in suspicion. 

"You know what," Tubbo says after a moment, "I don't want to know."

"You sure?"

" _ Don't fucking tell me. _ "

Tommy nodded quickly, watching as Tubbo finished counting the money and put them back into a roll. He eyed the bag looking somewhat worried.

"It's actually good if you do have a suit already," he says after a while with a frown. "I don't think we have enough to cover the train-tickets and two suit-sets. Especially not if they need to be as expensive as you've claimed." 

Tommy nodded. That was what he had been worried about as well. Honestly, they  _ could _ afford two sets and train-tickets, the problem was that the blockers that would be  _ essential _ could go for about any price. It was almost completely dependant on how eager the assholes would be on betting. 

"I say we buy the tickets last," he says after a while, shoving the bag into his backpack, making sure to cover it with his dirty shirt. "Worst case scenario, I'll do some pick-pocketing if we run out. The blockers are more important." 

Tubbo bites his lower lip thoughtfully, looking torn. He's never been a fan of doing what needs to be done, but he'd do it. He can't afford to care for anyone but them at the moment. 

"Tomorrow is our last day here," Tommy reminds him, clenching and unclenching his right fist as he looks distractedly out through the windows that still were covered by the flimsy curtains. "Tomorrow, I'll go look through my stashes, see if there's anything useful other than the suit and then we'll just rest. The auction opens at midnight. If we try to leave early morning we can get an okay suit and then we can go and rent a room at the hotel and wait there until the auction."

Tubbo hesitantly reaches over until he's gently holding onto Tommy's wrist.

"I might need to... I might need to  _ feed _ before we leave." 

"Of course big T," Tommy says even as sorrow and fury bubbles within him. If he ever sees that son of a bitch again he'd  _ murder _ him. Drive a stake straight through his heart and leave his corpse out long enough for it to roast. 

Tommy can already feel the trepidation buzz underneath his skin. They're both running on fumes now, barely scraping by with the power naps they take here and there. Soon, he consoles himself as he and Tubbo cling to each other. Soon they would be out of the city, on a train to Scotland and then they could just wander until they found something separate enough to satisfy the psychological itch that insisted that they were  _ never _ safe. 

The next day passes in a blur. If asked he wouldn't be able to tell you where and how he'd gotten the nice pair of green lenses or which way he had walked back from his small storage-unit. He was so tired, but the soft look in Tubbo's eyes as he took the green lenses, still in their package, had been worth it. 

He had found out, much to his disgust, that he still couldn't quite open the box with the clothes. Instead, he had waved over Tubbo silently telling him to take it.

Tubbo had inhaled sharply as he looked inside, his silence telling as he'd presumably read the note and almost immediately discarded the small slip of paper. The box was then carefully packaged into Tubbo's backpack together with the now dry towels. Both bags sat by the door, ready to be grabbed at any moment's notice as their owners laid on the bed, one staring blankly up at the roof while the other appeared asleep. 

"I'm scared," Tubbo confesses in the silence, finger tapping nervously against the mattress. 

"Don't be scared bitch-boy," Tommy responds without missing a beat. 

"No Tommy, I am  _ scared _ !" Tubbo snaps before seemingly gathering himself with a deep inhale. 

Tommy doesn't even know if he needs to breathe anymore. He doesn't want to ask. 

"If we see him, I'll stab him and then we'll run," he says even though he knows that the chances of  _ that _ happening are depressingly low. 

"I'm not scared of  _ him. _ I'm scared of me!" Tubbo says with a choked-up voice and Tommy has to sit up to shove down the feeling of nausea. They have avoided this discussion, neither of them willing to open up that can of worms and face their new reality. Truthfully, Tommy had wanted to wait until they were somewhere safe, he did  _ not _ want to have this discussion, this budding  _ fight _ with Tubbo smack in the middle of enemy territory. 

"It's okay Tubs," Tommy attempts to console but instead it only riles up Tubbo more as he too sits up. 

"No, it's not okay! It will never be okay, Tommy, you don't understand! You don't know how it is!" Tubbo begins to jabber, so angry and upset the feelings come out without seemingly any rhyme or rhythm. 

Tommy has to bite down on his tongue to prevent the instinctive need to shout that he  _ does _ understand, that he  _ understands fully well _ _ exactly  _ what Tubbo fears because he fears it as well! 

But he doesn't. Because he knows that isn't true. He will hopefully never understand the life-ending change Tubbo has been forced to go through. 

"I know," he says instead, teary and angry with nowhere to direct the anger. They can't turn on each other. They can't  _ afford _ to turn on each other, not know when they are all they have. 

"I know that I don't understand,  _ can't _ understand! But I'm not giving up on you Tubbo, and I'm not going to let you give up either!"

"I'm  _ not _ giving up!" Tubbo snarls in response, unwilling to calm down. "But I'm scared of what I'm becoming- I-, everyday something  _ shifts _ , I can feel  _ it _ ! I'm scared that I'm going insane!" Tears have started to slowly trail down pale cheeks. "I can hear so much better now, I can fucking hear every fucking sound in this fucking house, and I-". Tubbo's breath hitches as he sobs, "I don't want to become a monster, Tommy, I don't want to-" 

"You won't become a monster, Tubbo!" Tommy cuts in sharply as he reaches over to grab onto Tubbo. Tommy digs his fingers into Tubbo's upper arms in an attempt to ground him, Tubbo only looks at him wildly, his hair mussed up and red eyes wide and teary. "You want to know how I know that? Because a monster would  _ never _ question whether they're a monster or not! A monster wouldn't sit here and fear what they  _ might _ do!" He trails off, almost bowling over when he's hit by a wave of exhaustion. 

Tommy leans forward, resting his head against Tubbo's shoulder, his grip never letting up. Tubbo runs warmer now, it's strange, Wilbur and Technoblade had always been cool to the touch, but he doesn't dare to go down that rabbit hole. 

"You're Tubbo. You're a stupid, clingy bitch with no friends. You're far too attached to bees and you can be a pussy sometimes but you're my best friend. I don't know what I would do without you."

Tubbo chokes on another sob, finally reaching out so he can cling back. 

"I'm so scared, Big T," he whispers into Tommy's shoulder, tears drenching the fabric of Tommy's favorite white-and-red shirt. "I'm scared of waking up one day with you gone, scared that  _ I'm _ the reason that you're gone. Scared that I will hurt you, I don't..." He trails off, "I don't want to hurt you. What if I hurt you?" He asks, sounding to the word like one harsh word would shatter him. 

Tommy forces out a strained laugh. 

"As if you could hurt me even if you tried, you bitch. Stronger,  _ taller _ blood-suckers have tried and failed. I'm a big strong man who can handle anything you'd throw at me," he tightens his hold around Tubbo. "So don't be scared anymore, big man, soon we'll be far away from this bullshit and then we can build your stupid bee-farm."

Tubbo sniffles but doesn't disagree. 

Tommy internally preens. That's right, screw anyone who ever dissed his plans! He was a strategic genius, no matter what Technoblade said!

He falters slightly before resolutely shoving away that train of thought.

"I don't know what to feel anymore," Tubbo confesses, the words muffled as he refuses to look up from where he's buried in Tommy's shoulder. "I miss him, but then I remember what he did to me, and then I  _ hate _ him. I want to run back, want to apologize for leaving but I can't, I can't, I feel like I'm losing myself." 

Tommy shakily inhales. 

"Shit's confusing." He mutters. Tubbo huffs out a wet laugh. 

"Eloquent," he teases before quietening. "He was so kind..." Tubbo says quietly. "He was so kind to me... He used to stay behind during the rowdier hours whenever he had time..." 

Tommy frowns. Tubbo had worked at a  _ café _ , how the hell could there be  _ rowdier  _ times? 

"Didn't you work at a café?" He asks. Tubbo stills before sighing. 

"I might've stretched the truth a bit."

"Tubbo!" 

"'I didn't want to worry you.'" Tubbo snarks back and Tommy winces. He really isn't in a position to yell at Tubbo for keeping secrets. 

"And they paid better."

"Shady fucking places tend to do so," Tommy agrees darkly. "They want kids that no one will miss and in return, you get a couple of hundred pounds extra if you live through the month." 

Tubbo merely hums in agreement, completely unbothered. 

They sit in silence for a while. 

"I really thought he was my friend," Tubbo says and Tommy barely restrains the urge to snarl at him. Of course, Tubbo would think he was his friend, bastards like that are charming, always knows exactly what to say to appear as friendly and welcoming as possible. It's easy to accidentally let down your guard around people like that in general, it's even more difficult to turn them away if they're vampires. 

"I'm sorry," Tommy whispers. 

"Hm?"

"I shouldn't have just let you continue talking to him, I should've stepped in, warned you-" 

"You  _ did _ warn me," Tubbo cut in. "You did say exactly what tends to happen, how things usually go and I didn't listen." 

"But I should've done more."

Tubbo forcefully separates them until they're face to face. 

"Do you blame me?" He asks and Tommy does a double-take. 

"What?" 

"Do you blame me for being an idiot? For trusting him? For befriending him despite you telling me that it's a 'stupid fucking thing to do'?" 

"No!"

"Then you don't get to blame yourself either," Tubbo says grimly, maintaining eye-contact despite Tommy's attempt to look away. 

"You did all you could,  _ I _ choose to believe a person I didn't really know over my best friend who has dealt with people like him as long as he can remember. There's nothing you could've done that wouldn't have led to me being angry at you." 

"You think I fucking give a shit whether you'd be angry at me or not? I'd rather you fucking despise me than be stuck in this situation!" 

Tubbo laughed without humor. 

"Are you sure? He doesn't take no for an answer, that's the reason he took me by force because I said no. I was never going to have a choice. If you tried to assert power you don't have over me, then maybe he might've convinced me that joining him wouldn't be such a bad idea after all." 

Tommy looked crushed at the admission and Tubbo pulled him close again. 

"I can be an impulsive idiot too you know, I would've regretted it but you can't really back out of this." Tubbo laughed. "I only ever saw who he truly was because I said no." 

"It's not your fault," Tommy whispers. It sounds empty even though he means it with all his heart. 

"I know. I know it's all  _ his _ fault for forcing this on me. For not giving me a choice, but it's so easy to forget. I want to hate him but I can't, I  _ wish _ I hated him but I don't. I miss him and I hate myself for it." 

"How?" Tommy asks before he can stop himself. "How can you miss him, how can you not hate him?" He doesn't understand, a part of him never  _ wants _ to understand. 

_ An even smaller part argues that he does understand _ . 

Tubbo sits silently for a moment. His head resting against Tommy's shoulder as he stares off blankly into space lost in his thoughts.

"I told you that... That the first week is... It's horrible." Tubbo finally whispers. Tommy bites back the urge to say that  _ no, _ Tubbo  _ hadn't _ told him, not even when he had probed as gently as he could. He had left a couple of openings for Tubbo to tell him, to speak about the one week he was gone, the one week Tommy hadn't been able to go after him. 

But Tubbo had shot down any opening he'd left for him, had remained quiet whenever Tommy outright asked, and so he took the hint. 

Instead of doing the stupid thing and say  _ that _ , Tommy merely hummed in agreement, wordlessly urging Tubbo to go on. 

"It's like you're drowning in a sea of pain.  _ Everything _ hurts. It's like, you become ultra-sensitive towards absolutely everything. Like all settings are dialed up to a hundred and there's absolutely nothing you can do to bring it down to normal."

"He'd hold me and tell me that everything's alright, that it'd soon be over. It was like I was only safe in his arms. Like he'd protect me from everything as if  _ he _ 's not the one I need protection  _ from _ ." 

"I hate that I want to crawl back. I hate that I associate him with being  _ safe _ of all fucking things."

"I hate that I can't sleep because I miss him so much. I hate that when I do sleep, I see him in my dreams and never my nightmares." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo is very conflicted :/ 
> 
> The children need sleeeeeeeeep. 
> 
> I should've maybe read through this a couple of more times than I've already done or wait until I've written more in order to smooth out any potential inconsistencies but meh. Worst case scenario I'll retcon it lmao. (This is a joke, please don't kill me, the overlapping theme is planned but details might be a bit off, feel free to call them out!) 
> 
> I've been up for far too long but I can't sleep now without screwing over my already broken sleep-schedule. T-T 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments! They fuel me and make my day! :'D <3


	5. Chapter 5

They don't speak about Tubbo's conflicted confession. Partly because neither  _ wants _ to deal with what it means and partly because they don't have time. 

They're both exhausted by the time they stumble out from the inn for the last time under the watchful gaze of the man in the reception. He doesn't say anything, only observes them warily, one hand firmly put on top of the reception-desk and the other hidden underneath. Tommy doesn't need to check to know that he's holding on to a weapon. 

Tubbo is tense and hasn't said a word since they left the room. Instead, he clings to Tommy's arm and attempts to shield as much of his face as possible with the hood of his jacket. Tommy can't find it in himself to tell Tubbo to straighten up, not when he looks like he's about to throw up at any second. 

Tommy himself feels light-headed and nauseous. He had urged Tubbo to take more than he had before, hoping that it would somewhat settle whatever urge Tubbo might feel. 

He's confident that he could stop Tubbo from doing something he'd regret. He is not as confident that he'd manage to hide them if the Organisation or the vampires caught the gist of them. 

They avoid Mainstreet and the flocking people and try their best to keep to the smaller, less well-lit alleys and streets. It's a challenge. Every now and then a group of chattering teens or small families with their shrieking children will appear, either going the opposite direction or walking along the same path. Tubbo's grip around his arm keeps tightening every time someone appears in their direct vicinity. 

Tubbo flinches into his side as a particularly excited child runs up to them, shrieking in excitement and barely keeping his balance as he runs along the uneven cobblestone path. Tommy watches with dread as the boy manages to righten himself, barely preventing a fall to the ground. He is all of the sudden strongly reminded of how  _ easy _ it is to get skinned-knees and scrapes, and judging by how stiff Tubbo goes as his now green eyes widen in horror, he's not alone in that realization. 

They don't freeze, but they feel stuck in a moment, unable to react and unable to get the hell away from the disaster waiting to happen. Despite walking along a less crowded alley it's far from desolate, it'd be impossible to hide if Tubbo lost it here. 

The tension breaks as the child's mother calmly call him back. The boy squeals happily and obediently turn to run back to his mother. 

Tommy feels his breath leave in a rush.

He hurriedly pulls Tubbo along, intent on getting as far away from the family as physically possible without running. 

"Why the hell is everyone choosing to take a stroll now of all fucking times?!" He quietly snarls to Tubbo in an attempt to calm himself, Tubbo hysterically snickers. 

"I mean it's autumn," He says breathlessly. "Who wouldn't take a nice morning stroll, just look at all the trees with their pretty leaves and-"

Tubbo doesn't stop his nervous chatter for a while but immediately shuts up the moment another group of teenagers ducks out from a side-alley and join their bigger one. Tommy grimaces and just silently brings them closer to the wall, ensuring that he's the one closest to the middle. 

The teenagers are whopping and hollering one particularly lanky one walking backward as he converses with a girl in a green jacket. Tommy can't help but watch the group. They must be around the same age as he and Tubbo are, and yet they look so unburdened. Tommy wonders if he should feel jealous, if he should wish that he was one of them. He tries to reach for it, reach for the jealousy he had as a child for all the other children he'd sometimes catch glimpses of, happy and undisturbed by the horrific truths of the world. 

He doesn't feel anything even resembling jealousy or anger, instead, he only feels a compulsion to one day have something similar with Tubbo. To laugh that freely with Tubbo. 

Tommy looks away before he's caught staring and finally glimpses what they had been looking for. 

"Look Tubbo," He quietly urges, slightly jostling his arm to get the other's attention. 

Tubbo looks up. 

"You can see the water over there. We're close to the marina." 

"I've never been here before," Tubbo whispers back, eyes shining slightly in curiosity as he straightens somewhat to catch a better glimpse of the dull-looking water. 

"It's not really worth coming here," Tommy muttered. "Everything is stupidly expensive and all the regulars are fancy pieces of shits." 

Tubbo huffs out a laugh. 

"Was it here as well? When you went last time?" 

"It was at another venue but still pretty close." 

They walk the rest of the way in silence, stopping by the edge to stare out over the grey-colored water. No boats were anchored in the water, instead, a series of connected platforms could be seen. Each platform was enclosed by a rope-fence with an arrangement of chairs and tables except for one bigger platform where a modern-looking black building stood. 

Tommy frowns as he watches what he assumes to be a restaurant or bar with distaste before turning away. 

A tall building loomed in the distance.

"Is that?" Tubbo asked hesitantly, still plastered to Tommy's side. 

"Yep," Tommy answered, trying to sound unbothered even as his chest tightens in worry. "We should get a room before all the fuckers arrive." 

They walk down the cobblestone path, eyes glancing between the intimidating build they're approaching and the rest of the area. 

"It's so empty," Tubbo remarks after some silence, eyeing the few stragglers that walk around, completely uninterested in the two teenagers.

"For now," Tommy mutters, "Just wait until lunch, this place will be crammed, it'll be even worse by dinner-time. If we want to get in with as little attention as possible it's better to check-in early."

He critically eyes the sky. It's cloudy with no sun in sight. The small amount of light managing to press its way through the thick clouds casts a grey light over the city. The only thing giving the almost washed-out world some color is the bright red and yellow leaves still clinging to the branches. 

Tommy grimaces, sunlight is a weakness most vampires have had to learn to deal with but it's nowhere near as dramatic as some media make it out to be. No vampire will be turned to dust upon contact with the smallest of sun rays but it's definitely uncomfortable and prolonged exposure  _ will  _ burn. 

He knows age is a defining factor, but he can't remember if it's the younger or older vampires who suffer the most when exposed to sunlight, so it's better to be safe than sorry. He might have to get Tubbo an umbrella. He doubts the hoodie would be that good at shielding his face from the sun if it came down to it. 

Tubbo had asked him in a heartbreakingly small voice, just after they had escaped from the mansion, as they were running along one of the three rivers flowing through the city, whether he should be afraid of the sun or not. Tommy hadn't known what to answer, in the end, he'd given some bullshit excuse about it being a couple of hours left until sunrise. Tubbo hadn't asked him again. 

They had been lucky that the mansion hadn't been too removed, they would both have been fucked if it was. Despite all his bravado, Tommy is more than aware that the stunt he had managed to pull off should've been impossible. He had been lucky that the bastard himself hadn't been home and that he was paranoid enough not to let anyone anywhere near the room Tubbo had been stuck in. 

But they can't stay here too long. The Organisation, while stubborn to the point of being stupid was not the greater danger.  _ He _ was.

Tommy had never paid too much attention to the government-funded, propaganda-filled lessons, but he did know some things that the Organisation had deemed crucial. One of the things had been to never approach a Changeling without having eyes on the Sire. 

His teacher at the time had been a war-hardened veteran, an aged lady named Clara with a wicked scar running down the side of her face. Tommy had liked Clara, had liked the music she always had on a loop in the dingy excuse of a classroom before the lesson started. She had been a no-nonsense kind of person, and Tommy had made it his life mission to drive her up the walls as much as possible. He had been successful in that regard and had been thrown out of her class more than a couple of times during her time as a teacher. 

_ "Blood-suckers are just bloody Canada geese in humanoid bodies."  _ Clara had lectured in front of a class of terrified children, her glare never straying from a ten-year-old Tommy as he desperately tried to not burst out laughing at the comparison.  _ "If you see a baby of theirs or Changeling or whatever you call them. Don't approach, just pack up your stuff and leave." _ Someone had timidly asked her why and she had sneered, the white of her teeth flaring as she furiously put down her cup of cold coffee on the table.  _ "They're bloody territorial bastards. A Changeling is never out on its own unsupervised, you might not see its Sire but I can promise you they're there, watching. Try and throw yourself at a lonesome vampire for all you want but don't fuck around with a Changeling. For all, we know it belongs to someone the Hunter Organisation doesn't want to piss off, and before we know it we'll be knee-deep in another war." _ She had then looked back at Tommy, her eyes carrying a weight that seemed almost accusing that he at the time had found unfair.  __

Turns out her unvoiced accusation hadn't been unfounded, Tommy bitterly reflected as he walked beside Tubbo, his best friend that was most definitely classified as a stolen Changeling 'belonging to someone the Organisation wouldn't want to piss off'. 

The closer they came to the building the more nervous Tommy could feel himself becoming. It didn't help that the fucking thing practically loomed over them, Tommy just knew that whoever designed it was an asshole of epic proportions. 

Walking through the glass doors with their golden handles and shining exterior was one the most nerve-wracking things Tommy had probably ever done. Which was frankly ridiculous considering his history as one of the most badass hunters  _ ever _ . But no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he was fine the feeling of pure dread persisted. With Tubbo still clinging tightly to his left side, Tommy confidently walked down the hotel's foyer towards the reception-desk. 

A smiling woman stood in the reception, her hair pulled up in one of the most complicated buns Tommy had ever seen. Her clothes were perfectly in order without even as much as a wrinkle out of place. She looked the picture-perfect of a receptionist with only a nametag missing. 

Tommy discretely eyed her. She was human. 

It suddenly hit him how out of place he and Tubbo looked. They were both pale and had dark bags under their eyes and wore clothes that although clean  _ enough _ was nowhere near the same state as the receptionist's, nevermind her usual clients. Tommy internally swore as he realized that there's a risk that they might be shown the door. 

"Hello and welcome to the Biginnit Hotel. How may I help you today?" The receptionist greets them, seemingly taking their sorry state in stride without a hint of judgment. 

"A room. One night only." Tommy says as he wets his lips and waits with his heart in his throat. 

The receptionist turns to type something into the computer, her smile never wavering. 

"Of course sir, for the both of you?"

"Yes."

"And would you like a room with twin beds or a double bed?"

"Twin beds please." 

"And do you have any preferences regarding the room otherwise?

"None." 

"Great, and are you interested in partaking in tonight's activities?"

Tommy can feel Tubbo's nails digging into his arm through the jacket.

"Yes."

"Very well sir, alone or together with your companion?" 

Tommy hesitates and glances at Tubbo. Tubbo is glaring at him, daring him to try and leave him alone in the room. 

"Both of us, please." Tommy answers. 

"And do you already have in mind what range you'd like to purchase in?"

"The lower-range." 

"Understood sir, please wait a moment" the receptionist continues to type before turning towards them. "That will be 590 pounds, would you like to pay by card?"

"You take cash right?" Tommy fucking hope they did. 

"Today we do, sir." The receptionist answers with the same politeness she had greeted them with. She turns away to fipple with something behind the desk, just out of their sight. 

Tommy carefully dislodges Tubbo to open his backpack, mindful of the clattering noise from behind the desk. By the time he has pulled up three rolls of bills and handed them over to Tubbo to unroll the receptionist is back, a small silver tray with two key-cards and two metal wristbands in front of her.

Tubbo places the money on the reception-desk before taking a step backward, grabbing onto the edges of Tommy's jacket. 

The receptionist straightens out the bills somewhat before carefully putting them in a money counter that comes to life with a dull whirring sound. It stops with the money separated into two piles. The receptionist takes the money from the smaller pile and hands them back with a smile. 

"Your change sir." Tommy takes the money with a mumbled thanks. 

"These are your key-cards. They act as a key to your room and can be used upon entrance to the dining area. If you happen to lose them please contact the reception desk so we may replace them." 

She taps one of the metal wristbands with a perfectly manicured finger. "These are your entrance to tonight's activity. Please ensure that they are visible at all times. The venue will only be accessible upon scanning the black spot-" she picks up one of the wristbands to show off black a speck, "in the elevator." 

Tommy kinda zones out after that. He dumbly thanks her and leaves, pulling an equally stunned-looking Tubbo along towards what he hopes is the elevators. 

"What the hell," Tubbo mumbles as they stand in the elevator, Tommy can't help but agree. They eye the interior, somewhat caught between disbelief and feeling horrifically out of place. 

The elevator doors open with a ding and they stumble out into the corridor of floor 4. 

"Which room?" Tommy asks Tubbo as he pulls the other along. 

"124... I think. There was a lot to take in." Tubbo mumbles in response, his eyes closed as he massages his temple with his free hand. 

Tommy eyes the golden numbers elegantly carved into the doors. 

121, 123... 124.

"Here." He pulls Tubbo closer and holds up his key-card against a shiny black surface placed next to the door. The black screen lit up in yellow before quickly turning green with a checkmark in the middle. They hear a muted click and Tommy quickly presses down the door-handle. The door swings open with no resistance. 

Tubbo hurries in while Tommy takes care to close and lock the door behind them. 

"Holy..." He hears Tubbo say in complete bafflement and turns around. 

It's not the biggest room Tommy has ever seen but it is definitely the fanciest. It's light and airy, decorated with creamy white and beige colors with small splashes of green thrown in. The entire wall facing the outside is almost completely covered by glass and makes the room seem much bigger than it actually is. Two beds are pressed up against the right wall, white and fluffy and incredibly tempting to jump into if Tommy hadn't felt so dirty just looking at them. An elegant armchair, big enough to fit both him and Tubbo is pressed up against the right corner facing the room. A drawer carved out of light wood stands against the wall, facing the beds, with an old-school telephone and a neat pile of brochures placed on top of it. 

The room honestly looks like it's straight out of a commercial. 

"Tommy, Tommy-" Tubbo grabs onto his arms and shakes him. "There's a shower and free  _ soap _ !" Tubbo looks so overwhelmingly happy at the prospect of a good shower and Tommy grins.

"You can go first, big man!" He offers. Tubbo smiles in thanks before he rushes towards the slightly ajar door that Tommy assumes leads to the bathroom. 

Tommy pulls off the backpack and places it carefully beside Tubbo's bag before he sinks down against the wall. His head is pounding and he feels grimy. Despite the cost of the room, he can't find it within himself to regret checking in. At this point, he's willing to kill for a warm shower and a decent bed. 

He stays in the hallway, forehead resting against his knees and eyes closed as he listens to the muted sound of running water.

Eventually, it becomes quiet before the door is opened. Tommy doesn't open his eyes but can still feel the gust of warm humid air brush against him as it escapes the bathroom. 

"Tommy?" Tubbo asks with a concerned voice. A warm hand comes to rest against his forehead. "You okay dude?" 

"I want to throw up," Tommy mumbles as he stands up. Everything feels like it's spinning. 

Tubbo goes quiet but still reaches out to stabilize Tommy as he slightly sways where he stands. 

"I shouldn't have taken so much," Tubbo says, self-loathing practically dripping from his voice. "I shouldn't have- Tommy, god, I'm so sorry." 

Tommy harshly shushes him, even going as far as to push him slightly to really drive home the point. 

"Don't you fucking dare dickhead. We promised, no fucking self-derogatory shit alright?" 

"Yes, but-" Tubbo stumbles over his words.

"But nothing. I'm going to take a shower and then sleep. You should too big man, we're in for a rough night." 

Tommy stretches, forcing himself to feel slightly more alive as he wobbles into the bathroom. A hand grabs onto his arm and he stops. 

"Don't forget a change of clothes," Tubbo mutters as he pushes Tommy's last clean t-shirt and an old pair of sweats into his arms. Tommy fumbles slightly but diligently mutters thanks before he closes the door behind him. The bathroom is clean, probably the cleanest and freshest bathroom Tommy has ever seen. He carefully peels off his shirt as he realizes he's far too tired to appreciate an actually warm shower properly. 

He steps into the shower, turns on the water, and closes his eyes as he practically feels the imaginary grease wash off. He tiredly scrubs his hands against his face as he leans against the tiled wall. 

He's so tired. 

* * *

Tommy jolts awake when something heavy lands on him. He tenses and prepares to kick off whoever the fuck decided to fuck with him but reluctantly relaxes as he catches sight of a winded Tubbo. 

"What the fuck?" He grouches out as he tries to bury his head underneath the nearest pillow. Tubbo laughs happily before ripping away the pillow, the bastard. 

"Wake up sleepy-head!" 

"Fuck you. What time is it?" 

"Time for you to eat," Tubbo cheerfully informs as he begins to push Tommy towards the edge of the bed. Clearly intending to push him off if given the chance. 

Tommy yawns as he irritatedly sits up, glaring at Tubbo through bleary eyes as he keeps the fluffy  _ warm _ duvet around him like a shield. 

"Eat?" He asks as he tiredly rubs his eyes. "Fuck dude, I'd rather skip the blasted energy bars." 

Tubbo laughs again, clearly, the nap had done him wonders while somehow managing to leave Tommy more tired than he already was. Fucking figures. 

"No energy bars, big guy, I got you actual food." 

"What?" Tommy suddenly feels more awake. "You- what? How?" 

Tubbo blinks innocently at him. 

"You slept through lunch, so I went down and asked what we paid for, turns out we got a free lunch for our troubles so I grabbed some stuff I thought you'd like and brought it up with me." 

"Tubbo!" Tommy bursts out, "We're in enemy territory! You could've been seen! Or taken, or-" 

"Nah," Tubbo interrupts unbothered by Tommy's outburst. "You said it yourself we're early. The people we need to avoid won't come as early as lunch. We're fine until dinner at least." Tubbo eyes him, his lips pinched in displeasure. "And you need food. Actual food, not those crappy müslibars you've been eating." 

Tommy opens his mouth in protest but Tubbo quickly silences him. 

"You should've seen yourself," He whispers, his voice suddenly so very small. "I thought you were gonna faint in the shower big guy, you looked like a weak gust of wind could knock you over." 

"I wouldn't do such a pussy thing as faint Tubso, have some faith in me will ya?" 

"There's also no way I'd let you 'help me out' like you've done when you look ready to keel over any second." Tubbo smiled slightly at the indignant squawk Tommy let out in surprise. 

"I wasn't gonna keel over you dickhead!" 

"Mhm."

"Fuck you asshole, I was fine!"

Tubbo shook his head in exasperation but there was still a small hint of a smile left. Tommy grinned, letting go of his mock-indignation expression. 

"While I don't want to reward you for potentially fucking yourself over, I'm so fucking tired of energy bars that I'm this close to just eating my shoes instead, so cough it up, big man." 

Tubbo laughs but does get off the bed, he walks over to the dresser where a plate filled to the brim with different sorts of food stood. 

"How the fuck did you even manage to get that? No way they're fine with you just walking out with a plate just like that."

"Probably not," Tubbo agrees as he hands over the plate to Tommy, "But I didn't ask. And I think one of the workers felt pity for me 'cause she looked the other way instead of stopping me." Tubbo sits down on the bed beside Tommy, leaning against the wall as he stares off into space.

The first piece of actual food is almost enough to make Tommy a little teary-eyed. He sniffles quietly as he internally thanks Tubbo for being a reckless idiot before he continues to scarf down the rest of the food. He's grateful that Tubbo went for safe options such as small bite-sized pieces of chicken and potato wedges. Hell, he didn't even grumble at Tubbo for sneaking peas and other greens onto the plate. 

He puts the empty plate on the nightstand, sighing in satisfaction as he leans back against the headboard, gently bumping his head against Tubbo's in a silent thanks. 

They sit in silence for a bit and Tommy can already feel himself beginning to doze off before Tubbo interrupts the silence. 

"The receptionist." 

"What about her?" Tommy mumbles sleepily as he rearranges the duvet to cover all of him. 

"She didn't ask for identification. Or anything of value for that matter." Tubbo points out with a frown. 

"It's because we're going to the auction," Tommy responds with a yawn. "We're auction participants first, hotel guests second. One of the nicer perks of participating in the auction is complete anonymity, asking for identification or name could jeopardize that. Probably why she didn't even question us paying with cash instead of using a debit card." 

"I see," Tubbo mumbled in surprise. "That's awfully convenient." 

"Not really. We're in the minority big T, most of the assholes that participate already know each other. Any new faces are either there because they know someone or sells something. It's all just for show really." 

"Oh, won't we stand out then?" 

"A bit, but that's unavoidable. We'll keep to the sidelines as much as possible. We're leaving before anything of actual interest shows up anyway, we're just here for the blockers." 

"Yeah, I was meaning to ask you, what do they look like? I've heard of them but never seen them." Tubbo suddenly asks as he leans over to grab his own duvet. 

"Like patches. You stick them on your wrists and neck. Supposedly they dampen some of the more violent tendencies while cloaking your presence from other blood-suckers." 

"Supposedly?" 

"Well, I mean, I've never had to try it before obviously. They're mostly used by strays anyway, none of the bigger Covens need them." Tommy closes his eyes and feels himself start to drift off again before something hits him. 

"Tubbo. What the fuck man." 

"It's like 1 o'clock! I thought you said you were going out to buy a suit?" 

Tommy groaned at the reminder but obediently rolled off the bed, still swept into his duvet.

"Fucking shit," Tommy swore as he grabbed his jeans from the pile of discarded clothes and reluctantly put them on. He reluctantly threw the duvet back to the bed before leaning back in a stretch. 

"So where are we going?" Tubbo asks as he too leaves the bed to pick up his discarded hoodie. Tommy stills. 

"'We'? You mean I?" Tubbo frowns as he puts on his hoodie before turning away to get his shoes. 

"Nope. I'm coming with you." 

"Tubbo..." Tubbo smiles, looking calmer than he did before. 

"Don't worry, I don't think any urges will be an issue, I felt nothing when I went down to the dining area or when I spoke to the receptionist." 

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Tommy asks with a frown. 

"Well. Mostly nothing, it's weird, I don't really know how to explain." Tubbo says after thinking it over. "But I know it won't be as much of an issue as I feared, at least not this recently after you 'helped' me and after some proper rest." 

Tommy hesitates. 

"Yeah, okay if you say so big man." 

They can't avoid people forever, and Tubbo can't keep unreasonably fear himself either. Better practice and test shit out in a relatively controlled environment while they can. Not to mention... 

Tommy grimaces at the thought.

The train station and train will hardly be abandoned. 

"Great," Tubbo says with a smile, pulling Tommy out from his thoughts. "Are we good to go?" 

Tommy throws on his jacket and grabs the bag with their money. 

"Yeah, let's go." 

* * *

They return laughing, relaxed, and slightly winded from the trip. It feels good, like the worst week of their lives had never happened, as if they still live in that worn-down apartment that's brimming with Tubbo's attempt at recreating an indoor garden. So this is, of course where everything goes horribly wrong. 

Tommy doesn't immediately notice that Tubbo has gone deathly silent but he does notice being violently wrenched behind one of the hotel foyer's indoor pillars. 

He only manages to splutter in alarm before there's a hand over his mouth, silencing him. 

Tubbo looks pale, his artificial green eyes wide in horror as he stares at something Tommy can't see from behind the pillar he pulled them to. He effortlessly holds Tommy in place as Tommy begins to squirm. After a couple of tense minutes, he removes his hand.

"Tubbo? What the-"

Tubbo harshly shushes him but doesn't attempt to put his hand over Tommy's mouth again. He's tense, stiff, and looks prepared to bolt at any second. After a hesitant glance to the side, he pulls them closer to the wall where they have a better outlook over the elevators to the right of the reception. 

Tommy manages to catch a glimpse of what is causing Tubbo's freak-out and feels his stomach drop. A tall man with short brown hair stood turned away from them by the elevators, a small gathering of people surrounding him. Even with his back turned towards them, Tommy knew intimately that the being had dark red eyes, a bit off a stubble, and wore a dark suit with a matching wine-red tie. 

He latched on to Tubbo as he watched the beast walk into the elevator, the gathering of people dogging his heels following him. The elevator doors close behind them with a barely heard 'ding'. 

"Fuck."Tommy swore breathlessly as his heart razed in fear. "Fuck,  _ shit! _ " 

Small panicked breaths escape Tubbo as he sank down to the floor, arms tightly wound around himself as he trembles. 

"He's here, he's here..." He murmurs to himself as he curls up. Tommy sinks down beside him, his hand once again reaching for his nonexistent weapons as Tubbo hides his face in his knees.

"Schlatt's here." He sobs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter with 4.5k words is too long, I said. I don't want the chapter lenghts to be too irregular, I said. Just gotta add this so this chapter isn't too boring, I said. 
> 
> *This chapter is 4.8k words long.*
> 
> So yeah this is my offical application for the circus. Please take me, I'd make a lovely clown. 
> 
> This is also the second time I've ended the chapter with Tubbo having a breakdown. Kinda weird considering I set out to make Tommy miserable but I guess he'll feel it soon enough.
> 
> Can you tell things are picking up? Now, I just work here, but a little bird has whispered in my ear and told me next chapter will be particularly exciting so stay tuned for that.
> 
> Also please give me comments. I'm not above begging, I have not a lick of pride left in me after the complete beatdown that canon is dealing to my SBI loving heart. (Plz Techno just a *hint* that you care, I'm *begging* you) But yeah. Comment or I'll eat all your food and pet your pets.


	6. Chapter 6

They don't stick around the hotel foyer for very long. The moment Tommy manages to gather his wits he grabs Tubbo and rushes them to the elevators, making sure to take the elevators to the left.

Tubbo is almost entirely unresponsive, mumbling and muttering to himself as he holds on to Tommy like a vice. Every tremble that wrecks Tubbo's suddenly so fragile-looking frame sends another spike of hatred running through Tommy. He hates the beast that had reduced his strong-willed friend to this pale imitation of himself. 

Tommy doesn't say anything during their journey up to the 4th floor, he only holds on to Tubbo as the other's quiet muttering fills the silence. He eyes the flickering numbers as they climb upwards, each floor they pass causing him to tense in preparation. He's as tense as a bow-string by the time they finally reach the 4th floor. A quick, cautious glance down the corridor confirms that it's empty and he hurries to get them behind a locked door, safe. 

They gather on top of Tubbo's bed, wound around each other as their duvets act like shields, a protective layer that gives them the illusion of safety. Tubbo has gone quiet, instead, he only blankly stares ahead, one hand intertwined with Tommy's and the other wrapped around his knees, holding them close to his chest. 

"We can leave," Tommy says after a while, nervously fiddling with the hem of his jeans. "We can find another source, buy Blockers from someone else. If we sell the suits we'll have something to live off, I can pick-pocket, we could-" 

"We can't," Tubbo interrupts quietly, a note of resignation that Tommy refuses to entertain. "You know we can't, that's why we put everything on the line for this. We don't even know for sure if there will be Blockers here or not but we still have to try because that's our only choice." He turns to look at Tommy, his eyes are horrifically blank. "It's fine. We knew this could happen, I just..." He sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I just didn't expect to see him so soon, so out of the blue." 

Tommy tightens his hold around Tubbo's hand, Tubbo squeezes back.

"We'll stay out of sight, among the strays and humans. Assholes like him don't bother with the small fry, we should be fine." He smiles, trying to look encouraging. Tubbo smiles in return, it's a small and shaky thing but it's something. 

"I just. It just struck me all at once..." Tubbo begins sounding torn as he rests his head against Tommy's shoulder. "I know that there was a risk we'd see him, but actually seeing him? Actually being that close to him?" Tubbo let out a humorless laugh as he shook his head slightly in bewilderment. "I was unprepared. Despite everything we've done, despite everything we've said... I was caught unaware." 

"I don't think I actually expected him either," Tommy muttered. "And even if we knew that there's a chance of him showing up, I don't think I'd ever imagined he'd show up this fucking early." 

Tubbo stills. 

"Do you... Do you think he knows?" He whispers with horror. 

"If he did he would've already leveled the building."

"Then why would he-"

"Be here? This early? Probably something to do with the auction," Tommy reasoned. "A really fucking good item might've appeared or something. It's not weird for the Head of a Coven to attend. Especially not the Heads of the larger Covens. I don't think we should panic just yet, not that I'm ever panicked." He added with a grin. 

Tubbo stared at him for a bit, seemingly lost before bursting into exasperated laughter. 

"Oh my god, we're dead." He said breathlessly as he rubbed his eyes, mouth still quirked in a wobbly smile. 

"Fuck you, we're fine!" Tommy protested as he roughly shoved Tubbo, Tubbo only continued to laugh while shaking his head. 

"No, admit it, we have shitty fucking luck, we're definitely dead." 

"If you were on your own, bitch-boy." Tommy sniffed haughtily. "But you're with Tommy-motherfucking-Innit, I'll carry you across the finish line like the big manly man that I am." Tubbo only laughed harder much to Tommy's indignation. But a laughing Tubbo was good, far better than a crying Tubbo even if it had to happen at Tommy's expense. They could have a mental-breakdown later, or preferably never. Emotions were for pussies anyway. 

Tubbo quietened after a while. Still seemingly a bit solemn but far from the wreck he'd been when they walked in. 

"Will you be fine?" 

"Hm?" 

"With participating? I can do it alone, big man, no worries." 

Tubbo stayed quiet as he gazed emptily out through the window. The evening was approaching fast, the sky was still filled with dark clouds, but the setting sun painted the sky in between the cracks a fiery orange. It was still relatively bright outside and dewy from the intermittent rain. The puddles left behind and the raindrops still clinging to the colorful leaves glistened in the small glimmers of light. It was an unsettlingly beautiful illusion, lulling them into a state of tranquillity instead of rearing them for the metaphorical battle to come. 

"I have to," Tubbo spoke up after a while, shattering the illusion. "I can't stay hidden away forever big man. I have to do this." 

Tommy wanted to speak up, wanted to refute what Tubbo had just said. But he knew it'd be useless. Tubbo was right. He did need to partake in this, if only for his own peace of mind. 

"Okay big T."

Tommy shakily inhaled as he dragged a hand through his curly hair. He hesitated for a split-second before confidently pushing the encompassed Tubbo off the bed and to the floor. 

Tubbo let out a drowned-sounding squawk as he collapsed in a pile, completely taken by surprise. Tommy took his duvet and joined Tubbo on the floor where the view of the outside was the best. 

"Tommy, you-"

"Eyyy, look at the sky big T!" Tommy cut in as he bumped against Tubbo, quickly derailing the other. 

Tubbo opens his mouth before clearly thinking better of it and closing it. Instead, he headbutts Tommy a tad too hard and looks out through the wall-sized window. 

They sit like that together and watch as the sky grows steadily darker, comforted by each other and the silence. Eventually, the street-lights lit up as more people gather by the docks and on the floating bar they had earlier spotted. They manage to catch sight of an elderly lady accompanied by a couple of younger women sporting a ridiculously large hat with what looks to be a stuffed bird on top. 

Tommy, upon realizing what exactly they're looking at combusts in laughter which immediately manages to set off a giggling Tubbo. After setting that particular ball in motion, they quickly make a game out of finding as many funnily dressed people as possible. In the end, they don't quite manage to find anyone who trumps the bird-lady, although Tubbo argues loudly that the short, stocky man with a neon-orange suit and blue hair isn't far behind. 

By the time their bodies start to ache after sitting on the hard floor for too long, hours have passed. The clock on the wall's shorter hand is steadily approaching the carefully painted 12, a tell-sign that it's time to get moving. 

"Time to go?" Tubbo asks with a yawn, much more relaxed as he stretches. 

"Not yet," Tommy informs as he rises from the floor to pull out the newly purchased suit-set. "But we should probably try and straighten these before we go." He says with a frown. 

"Oh, there's an iron and ironing board in the closet," Tubbo informs as he pulls out the other box, putting it on the dresser. 

"Oh shit, really?" Tommy said in surprise as he went to the closet. Sure enough, a folded ironing board stood leaning against the wall, an iron neatly put on a shelf just above. "Well fuck me, that's convenient." He says as grabs the board and brings it to the main area. 

Tubbo hums distractedly as he removes the lids, revealing the two neatly folded piles of clothes. 

"So how are we doing this?" He asks as he carefully unfolds the clothes. 

"You can take the red vest," Tommy says with no hesitation. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," Tubbo says quietly with a frown. "Red kinda stands out... Even if it's a bit darker." 

"Shit. You're right. I'll take the vest, can you at least take the tie?" 

The navy suit they purchased ends up being a bit too large on Tubbo, but they merely shrug and move on. As long as they at least attempt to follow the dress-code they'll be fine to enter, and given the quality of Tommy's clothes, most would probably assume he's one of the sellers or at least representing a seller while Tubbo would be glossed over as a companion. Tubbo ends up discarding the suit-jacket completely, compensating by having the white shirt properly buttoned up and tucked in the suit-pants and a vest of similar color.

Tommy skips tucking in the shirt altogether and instead rolls up the sleeves. The only thing being properly worn was the red vest he privately frowns at, not that it's as easy to screw up putting on a vest compared to a shirt. 

"Are your lenses still good?" Tommy asks Tubbo as he eyes the other fiddling with his tie. 

"I think so," Tubbo responds slowly as he tucks the rest of the tie underneath his vest with a frown. "I think they should last until we make it to Scotland at least but afterward?" He grimaces. "I don't think I'll be of much use without a better disguise. Vampires aren't really welcome in the more rural areas..." 

Tommy winces but doesn't disagree. Smaller, more remote areas were usually close-knit communities with no regard for strangers, especially not vampire strangers. While it was now possible to be a vampire without ever harming a human due to the blood-banks distributed over the country, more than a couple of the blood-suckers still choose to 'hunt' humans for their blood. As horrible as it sounded, ignoring the hunts and their victims were much easier if you lived in the city compared to living on the country-side. Everyone knew each other there, everyone would be affected by the loss of life while most city-dwellers would shrug and move along with their day. The victim nothing but a nameless face in a sea of unknown people. 

The apathy scared and disgusted most country-side communities leading to plenty of interesting and unexpected developments. Through the years, most had theorized that smaller rural-communities would die out as more moved to the city in search of work and a brighter future for their children. Instead, the rural communities had grown more close-knit, almost completely self-sufficient. The fear of vampires who mostly kept to the larger cities preventing country-born youths and families to leave the safety of their home for a shot at something grander. 

It'd be difficult for Tommy and Tubbo to blend in. Impossible for them to merge with a community that was isolated enough. Hopefully, if they were far away enough and made it clear that they wanted to be left alone and to themselves, the residents would tolerate them briefly venturing into town to buy necessities that they couldn't produce themselves. 

That would take time though. Tommy would probably have to go alone for a long while before they let down their guard long enough for him to bring Tubbo along. 

But that was fine, preferable really compared to staying underneath someone else's thumb. 

"You ready?" Tommy whispered to Tubbo as they stood by the door, properly dressed and with nervous sweat already building up. 

"Ready," Tubbo responded, just the barest of a tremble discernible in his voice as he stared forward resolutely. He looked battle-ready, prepared to face his horrors and best them. Tommy nervously licked his lips before he forced himself to grin. 

"Then let's go, big man." 

* * *

They're surrounded by a swarm of colors. Women in long fancy shimmering dresses and men in tuxedos and suits are scattered around the underground venue. Lively murmurs fill the room as champagne flutes filled with a light golden liquid are held, exchanged, and sometimes lightly tapped against each other, creating a clear if a bit muted 'clinking' sound.

Tubbo is openly staring, all bugged-eyed and slightly overwhelmed as his eyes dart all over the place, his grip around Tommy's arm slack in surprise. Tommy barely stifles a grimace as he carefully leads Tubbo away from the elevator-doors, keeping them close to the wall as he eyes the venue. 

The room itself was circular, the grey looming roof shaped in the form of a dome, illustrating how deep down underground they actually were. Turned off stage-lights were hoisted up high in the air, connected to the grey roof through metal wiring. A circular stage occupies the center of the floor, a black curtain surrounding the stage and keeping whatever or whoever is on out of sight from the bidders. The metal spiral that the curtain was attached to climbs up towards the roof, four dark screens surrounding it. Whatever would appear tonight would no doubt be showcased on those screens. Circular couches and tables were seemingly placed at random around the stage and already occupied by bidders, their excitement palpable in the air despite the distance. 

It's huge and oddly reminiscent of an arena, a modern-day Colosseum. 

Tommy looks up. A series of booths were connected to the wall, framing the room. The front of the booth was completely made out of dark-stained glass, giving whoever's inside a fantastic view of the entire room while keeping its occupants anonymous. 

Tommy eyed the booths nervously. If Schlatt chooses to attend he'd no doubt stay in a booth and considering his presence earlier, the chance of him not attending was practically zero percent. 

He firmly pulled Tubbo closer to the wall until they're stood directly underneath a booth, the scene directly in front of them. They're both brimming with nervous energy as they attempt to stand as still as possible, cautiously eyeing their surroundings and keeping a tight grip around each other. 

Tommy has had a few interactions with this part of society before but it still always managed to leave him stumped. It was weird, to see people actually dressed like this outside of the tv, knowing that these people probably hadn't gone hungry for so much as a day ever or had never stepped a foot inside the worn-down ruin of an orphanage he and Tubbo had grown up in. It's one thing to know that people from extreme wealth existed, it was an entirely different thing to see and watch it for yourself. 

Tubbo was watching everyone like they were aliens disguised as humans. Weirdly enchanted by the elaborate hairdos and perfectly ironed clothes and still so incredibly weirded out by the overall image that was laid out in front of him. Unlike Tommy who's ex-job had taken him through almost every neighborhood in the city, Tubbo rarely left for any other place than home and work. Venturing outside for no other reason than exploring was practically walking around wearing a sign with the text 'mug me'. The safest thing to do was to stay home when possible and always look like you were on your way to something whenever you were out and about. 

Tubbo turned to Tommy, eyebrows scrunched up in a furrow as he opened his mouth to say something only to look up as the few lit lights instantly dimmed. A smooth male voice could be heard from hidden speakers. 

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's Dark Auction! To keep things anonymous as usual, the bidding will be traced and held through tablets that our assistants are passing out. Please stand by for the tablets." The voice quietened as a group of masked men and women came out through a door, each carrying a silver tray with black-screened tablets carefully stacked on each other. The masked people weaved easily through the crowd, handing out tablets with ease and efficiency. 

A woman approached them, wordlessly offering her half-full tray of tablets. Tommy took one and gave a muttered thanks, Tubbo echoing him even as he stood pressed up against Tommy, uneasily eyeing the woman. The woman nodded once before she turned to walk down the stairs, offering tablets to the other stragglers that kept to the edge. 

"Holy shit," Tubbo muttered as he eyed the spectacle with wide-eyes. "This... Really is something." He finished lamely. Tommy snorted. 

"Finally starting to process huh?" He teased lightly as he carefully ribbed the other. "Yes, it's really fucking weird is what it is." 

"It's just so different," Tubbo said sounding beyond mystified. Tommy let out a short laugh. 

"Just wait until the actual bidding, big man, then you'll see a real spectacle." 

Tubbo threw him a slightly worried glance but Tommy only responded with a tight-lipped smile. The loud sound from a scene-light being turned on interrupted the quiet chatter. They turned their attention back to the scene.

The dark curtain was slowly being raised, disappearing up towards the roof and behind the screens, revealing the stage made out of shiny dark-wood. A man in top-hat and tuxedo stood in the middle of the spot-light, the short bushy mustache, and monocle covering his right eye visible despite the distance.

"Welcome everyone to the Dark Auction!" The man on the stage repeated, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Today, dear ladies and gentlemen, we have something extraordinary available! A nether star!" A white four-pointed star with a yellow stripe going from the middle to the end of each point was shown on the screens, prompting a wave of impressed and enraptured murmurs from the crowd. The star shone with a mystical, unexplainable sheen. 

Tommy froze. He had heard of nether stars before but never thought he'd ever see one. Nether stars were an unexplained natural occurrence that could be found at random all over the Earth, there was seemingly no rhyme or reason to where you'd find them and they were ridiculously rare. Less than 10 had been found throughout history, at most 7 existing with known owners at the same time. Historians had theorized that the stars played a crucial role in most religions, the most known feature being the Catholic's claim that it was the fallen Star of Bethlehem. One of the few stars to be somewhat constant throughout history, it was nestled deep in the Vatican City, supposedly kept under close scrutiny by the pope himself. 

It could supposedly when properly utilized, create a safe-haven where no vampires could enter.

It was a ridiculously valuable item to sell here of all places. There was no doubt about the legitimacy of the star, it wouldn't have made it anywhere near the auction if it was fake. It seems like Tommy might be right, Schlatt must be here for the star which meant he and Tubbo were safe as long as they didn't appear right in front of him. 

"I hope everyone's ready, the first item is about to be shown!" The auctioneer declared as the star disappeared from the screen. 

Tommy forcibly exhaled as he slightly leaned forward in preparation. This was it. 

"First up we have a-"

* * *

"I thought you said Blockers were one of the first things they sold!?" Tommy winced at Tubbo's furious hiss. They had been waiting for more than an hour at this point and they were both getting more than a little bit restless. 

"It is! They're just selling a crap-ton of shit because they want to hype of the nether star!" Tommy bit out as he watched  _ yet another _ useless decorative sword get sold for hundreds of pounds to idiots who couldn't find their way around a regular kitchen-knife, nevermind a fucking sword. The auction bastards were purposefully dragging shit out and the aristocrats were eating it up, they were partly here for the show and glamour after all. The only ones on a time-limit were Tommy and Tubbo, and they were suffering for it. 

Tommy was treading on a thin line between a nervous breakdown and absolute boredom. It was, frankly, the strangest mixture of feelings he'd ever experienced,  _ including _ the mixture of fondness and fear he felt for the vampires. Being bored was one thing, high-strung another. Being both was messing with him, he alternated between balancing on the balls of his feet, ready to go, and slumping against the wall, zoned out. It horrified him that he had to startle to alertness three times already! They were neck-deep in enemy-territory, one misstep would cost him his head and doom Tubbo to an eternity with his kidnapper! He could not afford to be even slightly off his game! 

"Come on, come on..." He grumbled to himself as pair of fucking ancient wine-glasses got sold for double its market price, the bastard on stage jovially singing out the result of each bid. 

"We have three objects left in the lower-range before we move up to the medium-range!" The auctioneer announced, ignorant to the pool of ice that gathered in Tommy's lower stomach at the declaration. 

"Only... Only three left?" Tubbo repeated with horror. "Tommy... You don't think?" 

"No way. They must sell Blockers... They must!" Tommy snapped, his nervousness grew to a crescendo.

Tubbo was silent but he was just as pale, his artificial green eyes glued to the screens.

A motherfucking  _ vase _ appeared. 

Tommy felt his breath leave in a rush as panic began to set in. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . 

"Please..." Tubbo whispered in the silence, almost too quiet to be heard. His nails were digging into Tommy's hand, almost to the point of drawing blood. Tommy couldn't find it in himself to complain as the vase was quickly sold and the screen flickered back to its intermission display, a dark background with the auction's initials. 

"Next up we have something of a regular here." The auctioneer jokes, urging a surge of polite laughter from the crowd. Could it be?

Tommy finds himself holding his breath as he stares at the screen. A small steel box with the lid partly removed appears, filled with what looks like white paper patches barely visible over the edge of the box. 

_ Thank fucking god _ . __

Tommy's breath leaves him in a rush as he turns to Tubbo who looks just as relieved. He hurries to pull up the tablet, his index-finger trembling as he prepares to put all their saving on the line.

He stops. 

_ What the fuck? _

"Tommy?" Tubbo whispers worriedly. 

He isn't alone in his shock, even the auctioneer does a double-take as he reads the first bid in pure disbelief. Eyes slowly going over each number, each  _ zero _ with skepticism. The auctioneer slowly divulges the first bid, his earlier playfulness, and self-assuredness gone as if it never existed. 

The crowd mumbles amongst themselves, equally stunned by the staggering price for a couple of Blockers. The room has gone quiet, no one was willing to speak louder than absolutely necessary in fear of shattering the strange atmosphere that had settled in the room. 

Tommy sagged against the wall, still staring at the tablet in disbelief. This wasn't possible. No one would bid  _ that _ much on a couple of Blockers. That amount of money was reasonable when bidding in the  _ higher-range _ what kind of fucker bid that much on Blockers?!

"I thought you said Blockers are one of the  _ least _ expensive products," Tubbo whispered in panic, his grip tightening even further. 

"It  _ is _ !" Tommy responded as the auctioneer, still as disbelieving as they, ended the bid. Unsurprisingly, no one had challenged the first bid. 

"Tommy, our apartment cost about  _ half _ of that."

"I know!" Tommy snarled, handing over the tablet to Tubbo so he could drag a hand through his hair. "I know, okay? I don't know- I'm-" He made a frustrated noise as he pressed his palms against his eyes. 

Tubbo wrapped his arms around him, bringing him close as he rested his head against Tommy's shoulder. Tommy forced himself to calmly take a breath. No weakness. Not here. 

"I'll admit that was a bit surprising." The Auctioneer said with a forced laugh. Tommy let his arms fall to his sides as he eyed the proceedings with a grim expression. He... Had not expected this. 

Lady luck must've taken pity on them because the last item turns out to be another box of Blockers. Tommy doesn't dare to take victory for granted and immediately offers a hundred pounds more than the starting bid. He hopes that the deranged psychopath doesn't swoop in to take the last Blockers with another ridiculous bid. But he privately reasons that they would've hopefully already done so if they wanted to. 

There are a few half-heartedly placed bids, more for the sake of bidding than an actual want to win. They wait with bated breaths as the little timer counts down, hearts beating as the number slowly trickles down towards zero. 

Tommy feels like his heart is about to beat straight out of his chest as the countdown stays on the number one for an agonizingly long time. When it finally hits zero, the tablet-screen going dark with the word 'congratulations' written in white, he's not sure if it's real or not. 

He exhales, a relieved laugh bubbling up as Tubbo practically body-slams him in excitement. He turns towards him with an exhilarated grin that broadens as he notices it's mirrored by Tubbo. 

"Holy shit!" Tubbo repeats, sounding breathless and yet more alive than ever. Tommy laughs.

"Why do you keep saying that?" He asks, his grin only growing wilder as Tubbo ribs him in response. 

"So, what happens now?" Tubbo asks, pretty much bouncing on the spot in excitement, the rest of the auction becoming nothing but background noise. 

"Back to the room," Tommy responds pulling Tubbo towards the exit, still keeping as close to the wall as possible. "We bought a room so they'll come knocking at our door after the auction ends, which should be in a couple of hours from now." 

"Hope we're still awake then."

"Well, I dunno about you big man, but I'll be pinging out of my mind for a couple of hours at least," Tommy responds light-heartedly, eagerly pressing the elevator button. He couldn't wait to get out of this place, it feels like he aged 30 years between first arriving at the hotel and leaving the auction. He can't wait to be somewhere he can finally unwind. 

The elevator arrives with a muted 'ding', and Tommy barely resists the urge to just throw Tubbo into the small space and then jump in afterward. Instead, he not-so-gently pushes Tubbo through the doors before hastily stepping in himself. He presses the button with the carved '4' before finally allowing himself to take a breather. 

"We did it." He says with a grin. "We actually fucking did it, I thought it was over there for a hot minute, fucking hell." 

"Oh my god, don't remind me," Tubbo groans, but Tommy isn't tricked, he very much can see the smile Tubbo is attempting to hide. 

Tommy lets out a laugh, feeling like a weight had been lifted. He feels invincible. 

The small screen above the elevator doors announces that they were quickly approaching the second floor. 

"It was a close call. Had anyone tried to out-bid us it'd be over man," Tubbo said with a sigh as he sunk down to the elevator floor. Tommy agreed. They had barely scraped by, their last bid pretty much emptying all their savings. But it was worth it. They might have to duke it out in one of his abandoned storages for a few days before he managed to steal enough for two train-tickets but it would all be worth it. 

The elevator suddenly comes to a halt. 

Tommy's smile slid off his face as he felt his heart stop. He made panicked eye-contact with Tubbo, both their eyes quickly flashing to the screen showing a glaring '3'. They were on the third floor. Why were they on the third floor? 

The doors opened. 

The world came to a screeching halt. 

Tommy grabbed ahold of Tubbo who at some point had managed to stumble up from his position on the floor, and threw him towards the back of the elevator, quickly backing up until Tubbo was pressed between Tommy and the elevator's handrails. 

Schlatt stood in front of them, posture relaxed and with his hands shoved in his pockets. The pinnacle of someone just out on a stroll minding their own business, but his eyes betrayed him. Pure fury blazed in his red eyes despite his otherwise almost pleasant expression. 

The half-smile turned into a tight-lipped smile. 

"Hello, kiddos." 

Tubbo let out a pained whine and Tommy internally swore as Schlatt's eyes bolted from coldly regarding Tommy to eyeing the trembling boy behind him. 

"Eyes on me fucker," Tommy snarls even as his heart beats wildly, a part of him screaming in denial. They were so close, so fucking close. How could it end like this?

Schlatt lets out a mildly amused huff  _ and then fucking enters the elevator. _ The doors close behind him and Tommy is suddenly incredibly aware of the fact that he's within arms reach now. 

But Schlatt isn't making any move towards them. Instead, he pulls out his hand out of his pocket, ignoring their flinches, and presses his thumb against an unmarked button.

The elevator shudders to life and begins to rise once again, completely bypassing the fourth floor and instead steadily climbing. 

No one speaks. Instead, the silence is filled by their panicked breaths and Schlatt's simmering fury. Tommy can feel Tubbo's forehead pressed against his back, the other refusing to even look at Schlatt as he covers behind the other blonde teen. Tommy keeps his arms out, knowing fully well that there's nothing he can do if Schlatt chooses to  _ move _ him. 

The elevator halts for a second time, but instead of the doors opening, it jerks to the side. Completely off-setting their balance and sending Tubbo and Tommy crashing into the right wall while Schlatt stands upright, completely unbothered by the new unexpected direction. 

"Do you know had badly I want to tear your head off your shoulders?" Schlatt suddenly asks, voice deceptively flat as he stares Tommy straight in the eyes. Tommy feels his heart skip a beat. 

"I could say the same for you, dickhead." Tommy spits out, prompting a dark chuckle from the man, no  _ beast _ .

"I must say I'm impressed. You managed to burn down a good chunk of the mansion."

"Pity it didn't all go down in flames," Tommy snarks, violently shoving down his fears. 

Schlatt tilts his head, eyeing Tommy up and down before his red, slightly slitted eyes once again wander over to Tubbo. His rigid expression softens a minuscule but does nothing to dispel the threatening atmosphere he's filling the elevator with.

"You have something of mine," Schlatt says, a possessive note to his voice as he takes half a step forward. 

"He isn't yours!" Tommy snaps back as he stubbornly forces them further against the wall. Tubbo's breath hitches. 

The elevator had started to go vertically again at some point before stopping one final time. Schlatt shakes his head, another dark chuckle escaping him as he turns around and walks out. His back is tense and Tommy can easily see the slight clenching and unclenching of his fist as if he's struggling with the urge to rip Tommy to shreds. 

Tommy stares. Surely it wouldn't be as simple as-

"Oh, by the way," Schlatt says with a deceptive calm, having walked over to a dark desk placed by the end of the otherwise empty office, his back turned towards the gigantic window offering a splendid view of the night sky. "That elevator won't respond to you. It only responds to certain finger-prints in its database." He reveals flippantly. 

"What the fuck," Tommy says, verbalizing his and Tubbo's thoughts. 

"You might as well come out. Neither of you will be going anywhere at the moment."

Tubbo goes rigid behind Tommy before firmly pushing Tommy out from the elevator. The doors close behind them. 

Tubbo deeply inhales before he takes a resolute step away from Tommy, out into the open with nothing to shield him from Schlatt's scrutiny.

"There you are, kiddo." Schlatt rumbles, voice becoming something soft and warm instead of the razor-sharp ice it had been when he talked to Tommy, even though the anger doesn't disappear. 

"Tubbo..." Tommy says but Tubbo only shakes his head. He looks broken, fresh trails of tears running down his cheeks as he mutely stares at Schlatt. 

Tommy takes his hand and squeezes. 

Tubbo doesn't squeeze back. 

"I was worried," Schlatt says, eyes never trailing from Tubbo's sorry figure. He takes a step forward as if he desperately wants to approach. They stay still where they are, resolute in their defeat. 

"You have quite the nerve saying you're worried when you're the one who did this to him!" Tommy spits out, taking half a step in front of Tubbo. He can't help it. The thought of there being physically  _ nothing _ between Tubbo and the vampire made his skin crawl. 

Schlatt's attention shifts to him again, a cruel smile gracing his features as he lightly shook his head. 

"Insufferable." He comments. "Do you know how many have died because of your stunt? Do you know how many will die because of your actions? How many widows and orphans you're creating by not letting go?" Tommy feels ill. 

"It's not because of me. Nor because of Tubbo" He denies in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "It's you. You're the one doing this, you're the one who kidnapped my best friend, who  _ forcibly  _ turned him into something he never wanted to be."

Schlatt only smiles silkily. 

"Keep telling yourself that." He throws another long glance at Tubbo, eyeing him in full. "I must say he looks better than expected all things considered." His eyes shift to Tommy again. "Perhaps you're not as much as a simpleton as you make yourself out to be." His smile falls off. 

"But you can't survive on human-blood just yet, Tubbo. You're not ready."

They froze.

What?

"What?" Tubbo asks in horror, eyes flickering between a pale Tommy and Schlatt. "What do you mean I can't- I... What the fuck do you mean?" 

"You're just a baby. A small little Changeling." There's something almost loving in Schlatt's voice but it only manages to send chills down Tubbo's spine. "Consuming human-blood at this stage is telling your body that you can't get what you need, your body is shutting down in preparation for starvation."

They stare at him in horror. 

"Tubbo- Tubbo, I'm so fucking sorry-! I didn't know!" Tommy rushes to explain, turning to the other who merely stares forward blankly. 

Tubbo gives Tommy a small empty smile, he gently puts his hand against Tommy's cheek, a silent I-forgive-you. He turns back to Schlatt. 

"Perhaps that's for the better then." He says coldly, anger flaring in his eyes as he stares at Schlatt. "Maybe death is preferable compared to the life you've set me up to live." His words are biting. 

Schlatt goes rigid.

"If you die, this entire city goes down."

The anger disappears, extinguished, as Tubbo stares openly in horror, mouth slack as he attempts to process the threat. 

"I... What?" 

"I'll slaughter anyone you've ever talked with, anyone you've ever smiled at. No children will be spared, some parents left alive only to mourn and share my loss. If you die, know that you have doomed thousands of people to the same fate." The words are so coldly delivered as if Schlatt truly didn't care about the thousands of people he so easily threatened. 

Tommy shakes his head. 

"Impossible." He seethes. "Not even you would get away with something like that, the Organisation would never-"

Schlatt laughs. 

"The Hunter Organisation? I'm aware of your past with them, the role you've played as one of their many pawns. You're aware of their complete lack of competency right? I mean, sending off their child-soldiers to the same battle with the same people that always end with the same results. They're a mess internally and more than a few of my kind share the wish to give humanity a beat-down. More than a couple of us have been around for a long time, and few of us forget and ever fewer forgive."

"You don't think the rest of the world would notice?" Tommy snarls furiously. "A genocide wouldn't go unnoticed, surely you're not that much of an idiot to think otherwise?" Schlatt only smiles and shakes his head, as if amused by the babbling of a toddler. Tommy feels himself flush with indignation,  _ oh this fucker _ . 

"If they can turn their eyes away, they will. And if they do mind then it's an easy thing to reveal all the nasty stuff the Hunter Organisation has been doing in their labs. It'd be easily signed off as self-defense. They don't want another war." 

Tommy couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

"You disgust me." He only says, finding himself stumped at what he was hearing. Sure the Organisation could be downright  _ rotten _ and dumb to the boot, but surely not  _ that _ rotten.

Schlatt's attention switches back to his frozen Changeling. 

"I've been pretty patient," he coaxes gently but with a hint of steel. "I've been allowing you to throw your temper-tantrum, almost starve yourself in your stubbornness. But now it's time to come home, kiddo. I've been letting you off easy with regards to the suddenness of your turning, but my patience is running thin." 

"My temper-tantrum," Tubbo repeats icily. "My temper-tantrum." 

"You ran away."

"You  _ kidnapped _ me!" Tubbo screamed, taking a step forward, blind in his anger as Tommy firmly held him back. 

"I took you home," Schlatt refutes without even as much as a hint of guilt. "I only regret leaving you alone long enough to be taken. I should've kept you close, don't worry though, I've learned my lesson."

Tubbo lets out a wordless sound of fury, eyes tearing up in anger. Schlatt visibly softens at the sight.

"I trusted you." Tubbo sobs. "I trusted you and then you  _ ruined _ me." 

"I made you something better, something eternal. I made you my son." Tubbo looks stricken but Schlatt continues. 

"Whether you like it or not, you're mine, I'm yours. You can't get rid of me and I'm never letting you leave my sight after this fiasco." He eyes Tommy again, his expression complicated. "Your friend isn't getting off scot-free either."

They still. So far, other than some generic threats, Schlatt had been very careful not to mention what he had in store for Tommy, although they both were very aware that it couldn't be anything good. 

"I'm not letting you hurt him," Tubbo snarled, pushing Tommy backward as he took a protective step in front of Tommy. Schlatt gives them a humorless smile. 

"His fate is out of my hands." 

Tommy freezes. Could it be?

The Organisation? They didn't like deserters, had wasted a lot of resources to hunt down the few that actually had the balls to leave, prioritizing hunting their own over hunting vampires... They'd be willing to give Schlatt a good deal and he'd probably take it. It would also explain why he wasn't killed on the spot. His heart begins to pound as he vaguely hears Tubbo demand Schlatt answer what the fuck he means by that. But Tommy already knows. Already knows his fate. 

He squeezes Tubbo's hand who immediately turns towards him in a snarl before he freezes. Staring at something behind Tommy. 

Tommy lets out a shaky breath as he forces himself to look somewhat stoic. He can do this. He's Tommy Danger Kraken Innit. He was the most badass of all the Hunters to ever grace this Earth. He'd face death with honor and a lot of fucking spite. 

He turns around, prepared to see Jack, or Sam Nook or even more likely, someone he's never met before and yet-

"Wilbur?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch 3 with 4k words: "I'm the longest chapter!"
> 
> Ch 5 with 4.8k words: "No, I'm the longest chapter!"
> 
> Ch 6: "Amateurs." 
> 
> Ch 3 & Ch 5: "What was that, punk!?"
> 
> Ch 6 with 6.7k words: "AMATEURS."
> 
> *Slams head against desk* HOW DO YOU JUST KEEP GETTING LONGER!?
> 
> I'm giving up. Who am I kidding, I have never managed to keep my chapter lenght consistent. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! I was blown away from all the nice comments! I held myself back from responding immediately so I could focus on writing the next chapter, but know that I read each and every one more than once and will respond as this chapter gets posted! T-T I really, really, really appreciate it thank you so much! :'D <3
> 
> Also, stay tuned for some SBI next chapter, I wanted to include them but I realized the lenght would be insane... But you got Schlatt right? That's good too right?? 
> 
> See you next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> You made it to the end of chapter 1! Next chapter will be more exciting plot wise but will also contain some exposition. Apparantly I'm really bad at controlling myself so there will be a lot of exposition incoming because of the unintentional World Building. 
> 
> So tell me! Do you like it? Do you hate? Share your thoughts! I'm not opposed to getting into discussing the world building if anyone's up for it! :)


End file.
